Bowfinger (1999) Steve Martin, Eddie Murphy, Heather Graham, Christine Baranski, Jamie Kennedy, Adam Alexi-Malle, Kohl Sudduth, Barry Newman, Robert Downey Jr., Terence Stamp. Written by Steve Martin. Directed by Frank Oz. 100 minutes Rated PG-13, 3 stars (out of five stars)
Review by Ed Johnson-Ott, NUVO Newsweekly www.nuvo-online.com Archive reviews at http://us.imdb.com/M/reviews_by?Edward+Johnson-ott To receive reviews by e-mail at no charge, send subscription requests to pbbp24a@prodigy.com
Two key moments in the fizzy and funny comedy "Bowfinger" are particularly welcome. In one, Steve Martin's character discovers that his new girlfriend is sleeping with someone else. The other comes when several cast members realize that Martin's character has deceived them on a grand scale. In most movies, both situations would lead to dramatic confrontations and bitter words, but in "Bowfinger," the transgressions are dismissed with a line or two, because this production is concerned with laughs, not melodrama.
In general, I have little tolerance for Hollywood movies about Hollywood movies. More often than not, such films are lazy, with a paucity of wit and an overabundance of lame in-jokes and snide, cartoonish portrayals of industry archetypes ("Hijacking Hollywood" and "Burn Hollywood Burn: An Alan Smithee Film" are two particularly dreadful recent examples). Thankfully, "Bowfinger" is more imaginative, and considerably funnier, than most films of this genre.
Steve Martin stars as Bobby Bowfinger, a wannabe movie mogul who runs Bowfinger International out of his living room. Although his biggest credit to date is "The Yugo Story," Bowfinger has big dreams. He wants to produce and direct "Chubby Rain," a sci-fi opus written by his accountant about microscopic aliens who invade Earth by riding to the surface of our planet in raindrops. Bowfinger has a bankroll to back up his vision; since childhood, he has set aside a dollar a week and now has a whopping budget of $2,184 to bring his film to life.
After a studio executive (Robert Downey Jr., in his last role before being sent to the Big House by a judge fed up with his chronic drug relapses) facetiously says he will green-light the movie if Bowfinger can secure the talents of action superstar Kit Ramsey (Eddie Murphy), the low-rent filmmaker manages to pitch his concept to Ramsey, only to be tossed out of the star's limo. Undeterred, Bowfinger comes up with a new angle. Using hidden cameras, he will shoot his actors as they approach Ramsey in public places, spout their lines and disappear before security can nab them. Then he'll incorporate the footage into the rest of his bargain basement movie and, faster than you can say "Plan 9 From Outer Space," it's "Chubby Rain" starring Kit Ramsey!
Of course, things do not go according to plan. The pampered, temperamental Ramsey turns out to be a raving paranoid (among other quirks, he is so obsessed with racism that he uses a computer to count the "Ks" in a screenplay, then presents the total as "proof" that the script is riddled with hidden references to the KKK). Thrown into a panic by the repeated appearances of Bowfinger's cast ("these strangers keep coming up to me, speaking in some strange white people code!"), he goes into hiding at MindHead, a quasi-religious cult center whose members wear pyramids on their heads), leaving "Chubby Rain" in a lurch. Never one to give up, Bowfinger hires Jiff (also Murphy), a good-natured goofball and Kit Ramsey look-a-like, to allow filming to continue. Jiff, who aspires to be a delivery boy, quickly finds himself in the middle of the madness, as Bowfinger struggles to complete his masterpiece no matter what.
The whole idea is silly as hell, which is a big part of the charm of "Bowfinger." The film plays like a feature-length series of "Saturday Night Live" sketches, except that the majority of these are actually funny. The ensemble cast, reminiscent of legendary bad director Ed Wood and his entourage, works well together, with Christine Baranski (the best thing about the old sitcom "Cybil") stealing scenes with her outrageously arched eyebrows, vampish strutting and over-the-top line readings.
But it's Eddie Murphy who holds the production together with two dandy performances. He is absolutely convincing as spoiled superstar Kit (referencing personal history, perhaps?) and delightful as the innocent Jiff. After restarting his stalled career with "The Nutty Professor" and "Dr. Dolittle," it's gratifying to see Murphy shine without special effects.
Steve Martin wrote the film and his take on Tinseltown is interesting. The sole truly sympathetic character in the entire cast is Jiff, who also happens to be the only outsider to the scene. One female cast member spends most of the movie sleeping her way up the Hollywood food chain, finally ditching Bowfinger and all the other males for a romance with a powerful woman. Steve Martin once dated Anne Heche, who had a number of relationships with high-profile actors before settling down with Ellen DeGeneres. Coincidence?
Despite its many clever bits (wait until you see how the camera crew is recruited) little of "Bowfinger" lingered in my memory after I left the theater. Frivolous, wispy and quite disposable, this is cinematic cotton candy, which is not necessarily a bad thing. Sure, cotton candy is insubstantial, but it tastes good for the few moments it's there and so does "Bowfinger."
© 1999 Ed Johnson-Ott
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