MEET THE PARENTS (2000)
Grade: B
Director: Jay Roach
Screenplay: James Herzfeld, John Hamburg
Starring: Robert De-Niro, Ben Stiller, Terri Polo, Blythe Danner, James Rebhorn, Owen Wilson, Jon Abrahams, Phyllis George, Thomas McCarthy, Nicole DeHuff, Judah Friedlander, Kali Rocha
In MEET THE PARENTS, Robert De Niro, one of our most studied character actors, progresses further into staking out a little niche in playing identifiable caricatures. De Niro does this with about as much laid back ease as he employed energetic gusto for the wounded anti-hero roles he used to essay in the 70's. I'd rather see him in more movies like TAXI DRIVER or RAGING BULL, but I can't deny that he's been very (if not equally) effective in his latest ventures. Playing the aging, sad sack Mafia man in ANALYZE THIS, he indulged in a heightened variation of the wise guys he used to excel at dramatically, his face crinkled and pained with a tone thick, as if full of pasta; it was a terrific counterpoint to Billy Crystal's nervous nilly of a psychiatrist. Though I didn't really care for that film (it was more a series of skits [albeit some funny] that didn't really come together) I nevertheless enjoyed the anxious chemistry cultivated between Crystal and De Niro.
MEET THE PARENTS is also like a series of skits, these connected by the nightmare conceit of a groom attempting to impress his possible in-laws to be over one horrendous weekend. But here the skits hang together rather nicely, and Ben Stiller makes an even more likeable comic leading man than Crystal's callow invention. And De Niro's more interesting too; we've already seen him do the Mafia schtick more than we've seen George W. Bush make a mockery out of the human language (see, I follow politics), but I can't recall him ever playing a creepily wholesome, grandfatherly type; I'm guessing his research here amounted to viewing a slew of FATHER KNOWS BEST reruns. But the film takes a while to get good; it opens pretty badly with a nearly nauseating shower of sweetness. We start with a scene in which the earnest, eager to please, and very unfortunately named Greg Focker (Ben Stiller) proposes to an off screen paramour. He's so sincere and puppy doggish, his blue eyes twinkling with hope, that we just know some kind of gag is a'brewin, and of course the camera angle switches to reveal that he's really proposing to an old man. Cue the laugh track. He's actually practicing for the real one, an easy guffaw, and the next scene continues in this dubious vein with Stiller attempting to propose to his girlfriend, Pam (Terri Polo) while several (contrived) interruptions manage to stop him from doing so. At this point I'm debating on whether or not to high tail it outta here and sneak into the new Stallone picture next door (his fifth come back vehicle, I believe, which should at least be good for a few laughs).
Thankfully the picture hits its stride in the very next scene, in which Stiller insists on spending the weekend with Pam and her parents, giving him the opportunity to do the right thing, that being, to ask for her beloved father's approval. On the way to the parents, the picture settles into a comedy of extreme errors, with the world seemingly conspiring against Greg. After a big hubbub with some bag checkers, he checks his mini-suitcase at the airport, later finding his worse fears confirmed; it's been misplaced, (presumably by the ear muff wearing blue collar folk in whose hands we must entrust our sacred belongings), along with it, the engagement ring and all his clothing. Poor Greg warily stumbles to a busy customer service lady, who pooh-poohs him away just as a baby upchucks all over him and the only clothes he has left.
Now Greg must go to already one of the most nerve wracking meetings in his life, stinking like "sour milk" which certainly doesn't leave a great impression on Pam's stern authoritarian father (yup, Bobby D.), who's so square and twinkly eyed he's damn near psychotic. We first meet De Niro as he peeps out the second floor window, his eyes narrowing like a Cheetah ready to pounce. (Additionally, menacing thriller music pipes up to let us know this guy means business, as if we couldn't already tell). Their first meeting is a gem with Stiller, at his awkward best, trying so visibly hard to say the right thing, but flubbing horribly, which always gets a laugh, then the camera clicking over to De Niro's frowning mug, incredulous that his daughter is sleeping with such a fool, which gets a bigger laugh.
Stiller, essentially playing the same role he essayed in FLIRTING WITH DISASTER (my favorite of his bumbling duffas trilogy) and THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT MARY (a close second), has become an expert at flustered comic awkwardness. He's like a handsome Woody Allen, with his nervous tics closer to reality and less exaggerated than that little pipsqueak's (I use the term affectionately). Stiller has one of those common faces; look at him quick and you might mistake him for someone else like Hank Azaria or John Cusack or the guy who bags your groceries. He's an every man-type, almost immediately likeable, maybe because he reminds us of someone we know, and maybe because as an actor, he isn't afraid to look foolish or even let himself be upstaged by bodily fluids. Stiller is such a likeable presence that despite his character's occasional idiotic tendencies, we remain in his corner, almost protective of him; we might laugh at the guy as he's making a fool out of himself but ultimately we want him to win.
The wry Owen Wilson (SHANGHAI NOON) pops up in a bit part that could be described as the anti-every man. He's Pam's ex, a self-made millionaire and one of those fellows who likes to list his amazing achievements in an off hand way as if to say "ahh shucks, it was really nothing". Terri Polo has a bigger role, though isn't required to do much beside look at Stiller with either lust or concern. Blythe Danner is the WASPy mother whose greeting to her daughter, "There's my whittle girl", actually made me blush. Along the way director Jay Roach includes some amusing broad caricatures in minor bits, like the overweight stoner behind the supermarket counter who gets laughs because he isn't as stupidly over the top as he would be in an Adam Sandler picture, or the monotone stewardess who acts like a robot with a glitch in her system.
The film itself is little more than Stiller's non-stop attempts to ingratiate himself to De Niro and then the beautiful, cringe-inducing backfire, concluded by Stiller's hilariously perplexed mug, his jaw practically down to his knees, and De Niro, scowling as if to say "who is this man and what the hell is he doing in my house?" There isn't any emotional pull (well, a little bit but it's all arbitrary stuff about fathers not letting their little girls grow up, stuff that probably won't resonate with anybody who's watched a steady diet of sitcoms), or unnecessary sub plots or much of anything to get in the way of the film's sole desire to make its audience laugh and maybe even nod its head in recognition. There are occasional lulls (not many, but enough to note) that exist solely because the film isn't concerned with giving us much of anything besides the laughs (yes a minor complaint, but a picture like FLIRTING WITH DISASTER is so much more satisfying because of its added humanity). Still, MEET THE PARENTS is very funny and well put together, especially for a broad mainstream comedy. The comic set pieces are similar to those found in the NATIONAL LAMPOON VACATION films, where despite that most of the gags are projected before they occur, they still get laughs; in this movie they work because of director Roach's canny comic technique (it's all in the reaction shots). In one scene we see a typical comic misunderstanding in which Stiller gets what he thinks is his suitcase back. It isn't. He leaves the room, and we see De Niro pick the lock to go through it, checking up on his daughter's suitor to, I guess, make sure he isn't some kind of wacko (which in itself is kind of wacko). Before he opens the thing we just know there's gonna be something odd inside, and therie is, but what sells the bit is De-Niro's slight facial grimace; we can feel his disgust.
For the most part MEET THE PARENTS doesn't follow the string of recent comedies that mistake oozing bodily fluids for punch lines (the descendants of MARY, I'm thinking of ROAD TRIP in particular). Though it does what's logically next in line; it mines the embarrassment of Greg's situation for all it's worth and then some. Right when you thought they were down with the poor fellow, the film makers make every little social lie, every tiny misstep take on near epic proportions, like when he lets the cat out of his sight, or smokes a cigarette on the roof, again, we know what's going to happen, but the laughs come in seeing it happen well.
http://www.geocities.com/incongruity98 Reeling (Ron Small)
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