The difficulty in making a comedy is that, unlike other genres, humor has a time limit; no matter how many jokes or sight gags a director wants to include, everything must be wrapped up in a short amount of time, preferably ninety minutes. Hilarity expires quickly—precisely why there are no four-hour Chaplin films.
Guest suffers under the assumption that audiences will accept a massive throng of characters, as long as they’re funny. And while they are hilarious—I particularly enjoyed the wink-wink rapport between Michael McKean and Bob Balaban—most are too underdeveloped to be entirely memorable. I would’ve liked to have seen more from Ricky Gervais and Larry Miller as studio executives, and Richard Kind and Sandra Oh as a graphic artists. All four are obviously funny; yet here they have almost no dialogue. Still, Catherine O’Hara manages to be exquisitely funny and, in one short moment near the film’s end, candidly heartbreaking. (Guest, admirably, gives himself a few amusing lines without stealing the spotlight.)
What I find increasingly interesting, however, is how critics have summed up their dislike of this film: “too insider.” Because, until now, I didn’t realize that producers were sly control freaks, that agents were greedy idiots, or that actresses would mangle their faces for the sake of fame. Oh, how little we know…
by Adam Balz | Source: Warner Independent 35MM Theatrical Print
27 Nov 2006 11:09 AM | Comments (1)
I completely agree that too little time is spent with some of the outlying characters, but I did appreciate the fact that Gervais is still able to use his limited screen-time to deliver the film’s best line, which stresses the anatomical difference between Jews and Gentiles.
Chiranjit
27 November 2006
11:02 AM
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