One star (out of five). Rating: R, and rather generously, for nudity, sexual candor, drug use, profanity and an endless stream of potty humor
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 2.25.11
In an amusing scene from 1980's Caddyshack
, panic erupts in a crowded country club swimming pool when a suspicious brown UFO (unidentified floating object) is seen on the water; anticipation is built, prior to its discovery, with some riffs from John Williams' theme from Jaws. Following a shriek of "Doodie!" from one kid, everybody hops outta the pool, which then is drained and scrubbed. |
| While Fred (Jason Sudeikis, left) and Rick (Owen Wilson, right) watch in astonishment, Coakley (Richard Jenkins) demonstrates how an 8 can "pass" as a 10 by surrounding herself with less attractive friends. (Feminists, it should be noted, are unlikely to appreciate what constitutes "humor" in this film.) |
Bill Murray, perfectly cast as a deranged groundskeeper, finds the offending object at the bottom of the empty pool. He picks it up (mild consternation from all onlookers), takes a sniff and then chomps into it (fainting from some onlookers).
No big deal, of course, because he's immediately realized that it's a Baby Ruth candy bar, which we viewers also know, having earlier seen a couple of children accidentally drop it into the water. But nobody else in the movie knows this crucial piece of information, which is why the scene is so funny.
That's the difference between Harold Ramis, who made his directorial debut with Caddyshack, and the Farrelly brothers, who've returned after a four-year hiatus — sadly, not nearly long enough — to annoy, offend and repulse unsuspecting viewers, with Hall Pass. When Bobby and Peter Farrelly trade in excrement "humor," they employ actual excrement. Sometimes explosively.
This, in the interests of full disclosure, is considered the height of humor in a Farrelly brothers movie: watching a grown man squat, grunt, bare his back end and then use a golf course sand trap as a toilet. And, as an added treat, the camera then lingers on the little brown pile left behind.
This "mishap" results from the ingestion of marijuana brownies, a wheezy plot contrivance that stopped being funny decades ago.
Moments like that tend to overshadow the fitful attempts at relationship dynamics in Hall Pass, which, in better hands, might have blossomed into a halfway decent sex farce. (I'd love to have seen what a French director, such as Francois Veber, could have made of this film's premise.) Because that's the truly frustrating part: The core idea here has potential.
