Drowning Mona (2000)

reviewed by
James Sanford


         Sometimes it's tough to be a fan.

My friend Ruth, a die-hard Bette Midler follower, sighed as she looked at the cinema marquee. "I guess I have to go see 'Isn't She Great'," she mumbled, with all the enthusiasm people generally reserve for such statements as "I guess I have to pay that $700 repair bill" or "I guess I have to have that prostate exam."

So she got her ticket and sat down with the six other Midler addicts who had gathered in the theater. Ruth shook her head. "Bette has just completely lost her audience," she said.

Ruth is right. Midler, whose name once meant money in the bank back in the mid-1980s, is now considered a risky Bette by moviegoers. After a string of big hits ("Down and Out in Beverly Hills," "Outrageous Fortune," "Beaches"), she floundered for most of the 1990s in such disappointments as "Hocus Pocus" and "Stella." Even the surprise success of "The First Wives Club" hasn't been enough to jump-start her film career, as evidenced by the paltry attendance for "Isn't She Great."

Now comes "Drowning Mona," which reteams Midler with Danny DeVito. Previously, they turned "Ruthless People" into one of the funniest movies of the 1980s. But "Ruthless" had a snappy script and a sensational supporting cast (Judge Reinhold, Helen Slater, Anita Morris, Bill Pullman, etc.). "Mona" features Neve Campbell, Jamie Lee Curtis, William Fichtner and Casey Affleck trying awfully hard to convince us they're delightfully discombobulated while screenwriter Peter Steinfield painstakingly spins a comic whodunit that's neither terribly funny or particularly mysterious.

As the Mona of the title, Midler is saddled with a two-note character. Most of the time, she's a shrieking harridan, but once in a while she stops howling long enough to indulge in whiny self-pity. No wonder everyone in Verplanck, N.Y. wants her dead.

When Mona's Yugo goes flying off a cliff into the river, nary a tear is shed by her neighbors or her family. In fact, Ellie (Campbell), who's been on the receiving end of Mona's fury, speculates property values in the community will probably go up as a result. Ellie's police chief dad (DeVito) is obligated to investigate the death, however, and the suspects pile up speedily. Ellie and her fiance Bobby (Affleck), trashy waitress Rona (Curtis) and Mona's slovenly husband Phil (Fichtner) are among the most likely candidates, although the longer "Drowning Mona" drags on, the less anyone will care about the resolution.

A handful of giggles arise: The chief, a devotee of Broadway musicals, tries to coax confessions from the locals by asking them to "imagine you're Annie and I'm Daddy Warbucks, or I'm Auntie Mame and you're little Patrick."; a local mechanic (Kathleen Wilhoite) who fancies herself the next Melissa Etheridge quickly composes a hard-rocking ode to Mona's memory; on one of their dates, Ellie and Bobby venture out to see a dinner theater production of "Oh Calcutta." The soundtrack, ripe with such obscure 1970s pop as the Pipkins' "Gimme Dat Ding" and David Dundas' "Jeans On," is often more amusing than anything the script can provide.

In short, "Drowning Mona" is the sort of thing that will probably become a staple on Comedy Central in about five years, resting comfortably alongside such snoozers as "Once Upon A Crime" and "Who's Harry Crumb" in the cable channel's line-up.

But Ruth will undoubtedly show up to see it this weekend, shaking her head and sighing as she trudges in to pay homage to her idol. Yeah, sometimes it's tough to be a fan. James Sanford


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