By Matt Brunson
DUE DATE
*1/2
DIRECTED BY Todd Phillips
STARS Robert Downey Jr., Zach Galifianakis
Those who found it hilarious when Zach Galifianakis mock-masturbated a baby in The Hangover will find themselves in comedy heaven watching Due Date. Here, audiences not only get to see Galifianakis beat himself off but also get to witness his butt-ugly dog using its paw to bop its own little red pecker in unison with its master’s strokes. Not since Diane Keaton’s mutt in 2007’s Because I Said So humped the furniture and licked a computer screen showing porn has a motion picture humiliated our furry friends so thoroughly — when monitoring on-set animal action, shouldn’t the ASPCA take simulated sadism into account as well?
OK, perhaps not, but Due Date is certainly the type of film that makes me long for an ASPCC (American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Critics). A painful comedy in the lowest-common-denominator mold, this finds Robert Downey Jr. cast as Peter Highman, an architect trying to get from Atlanta to Los Angeles in time to watch his pregnant wife (a woefully wasted Michelle Monaghan) give birth. But once he bumps into aspiring actor Ethan Tremblay (Galifianakis), that’s not going to be easy. After Ethan’s bumbling lands both of them on the “no-fly” list, Peter is forced to drive cross-country with this eccentric imbecile, an odyssey that finds them having to contend with an unruly kid (an unexpected sucker-punch provides the film with one of its very few laughs), a paraplegic redneck (who else but Danny McBride) and Mexican border officials.
Unlike its thematic antecedent Planes, Trains & Automobiles, in which John Candy somehow managed to make his character both annoying and endearing, Due Date never allows us to warm up to Galifianakis’ insufferable Ethan, although that has as much to do with the actor’s sandpaper personality as it does with a sloppy script credited to four writers (including director Todd Phillips). The screenplay presents Ethan as such a buffoon — and spends most of its time mocking him — that it’s downright embarrassing in those occasional moments when it makes a play for audience sympathy. In the midst of all this horse manure, it’s almost amazing that Downey manages to concentrate enough to deliver a fine performance. It’s a little disheartening to see him squandering his talents in such a dud, but his professionalism at least prevents the entire picture from devolving into a complete circle jerk.
This article appears in Nov 2-8, 2010.
Mr. Brunson is performing a public service by warning us whenever a film relies on disgusting animal images to pass for “comedy.”
I seem to recall that, many moons ago, the critic ended a review of some Freddie Prinze movie with a delightfully terse account of his decision to leave the theatre the moment he was forced to witness something involving an actively horny canine. Professional obligations & cruelty concerns aside, I, for one, would not be opposed to maintaining this walkout option as standard procedure when faced with a film that relies on such base attempts at humor.
The old counterargument that “it ain’t like it’s supposed to be Shakespeare” is only valid if an audience resigns itself to a willful descent into crass neanderthalism. Mr. Brunson’s effort here, prominently featuring the worst offense of a bad movie in his efficiently comprehensive review, is more than a trivial takedown. It is a step toward the elevation of an entire society and culture. Intelligent people who care about standards and the art of cinema are too often too reticent on these matters. We should be embarrassed for our neighbors when we examine the box office tally this Monday.
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Does Robert Downey have no power to alter the script when he sees such absurdities? Wait, why would he agree to be directed by Todd Phillips in the first place? Disheartening indeed.
Thanks, Konstantin, for the thoughtful and detailed feedback.
I remember that Freddie Prinze Jr. screening, for his film Head Over Heels. For the record, though, it was a fellow reviewer who walked out. I NEVER walk out, as I figure since it’s my paying job, I have a responsibility to suffer to the very end of a terrible movie. But I did acknowledge the “horny Great Dane that dry-humps the leading lady at regular intervals throughout the film.”
Cheers!
Ah, then please forgive my imperfect memory and my accidental suggestion that you would ever break your commitment to professional journalistic standards.
Ciao!