Krippendorf's Tribe (1998)

reviewed by
James Sanford


On the surface, ``Krippendorf's Tribe'' would appear to be a perfectly harmless piece of family fun about an anthropologist's wacky scheme to save his reputation by creating fake documentary footage of a lost tribe. To this end, Professor James Krippendorf (Richard Dreyfuss) decks his kids out in grass skirts and dark body paint and constructs a grass hut in the back yard, where the youngsters perform weird rituals for Dad's camera. Krippendorf's clan - which he calls the Shelmikedmu, a conglomeration of his children's first names - inadvertently becomes the talk of the nation, even landing its own series on cable's Primal Time network.

Sounds innocuous enough. But in terms of raunchiness and innuendo, ``Krippendorf's Tribe'' turns out to be almost as ribald as an ``Inside Edition'' report on Monica Lewinsky. Jokes about menstruation, circumcision, penis size and prehistorical marital aids are sprinkled liberally throughout, and though most of this half-hearted smuttiness is gasp-inducing rather than laugh-provoking, all of it is certain to prompt questions from curious prepubescents.

Charlie Peters' screenplay attempts to shoehorn some sentimentality into the story early on, with Krippendorf trying to adjust to his wife's death, only to throw that idea out the window when the professor first gets his adorable publicist/ co-conspirator (Jenna Elfman) drunk, then seduces her on-camera. Later on, in a ghastly scene, the two almost suffocate a 100-year-old woman who threatens to uncover the Shelmikedmu fraud.

Welcome to what passes for family entertainment in 1998.

``Tribe'' manages to squander a considerable amount of talent, including Elfman (of TV's ``Dharma and Greg'') in a shrill, one-note part, and Lily Tomlin, straitjacketed into the dreary role of Krippendorf's frigid, vindictive rival, Ruth Allen. Dreyfuss struggles mightily to achieve the manic energy of Robin Williams in ``Mrs. Doubtfire'' and repeatedly comes up short.

James Sanford

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