WHAT WOMEN WANT (Paramount) Starring: Mel Gibson, Helen Hunt, Marisa Tomei, Mark Feuerstein, Ashley Johnson, Alan Alda. Screenplay: Josh Goldsmith & Cathy Yuspa. Producers: Matt Williams, Susan Cartsonis, Gina Matthews, Bruce Davey and Nancy Meyers. Director: Nancy Meyers. MPAA Rating: PG-13 (sexual situations, adult themes, profanity, drug use) Running Time: 126 minutes. Reviewed by Scott Renshaw.
Over twenty years into a ridiculously successful film career, Mel Gibson chose 2000 to do a pure comedy for the first time and it seems terribly unfair that he appears so good at it. Gibson has always had tremendous charm on screen, and his light touch provided most of the best moments in the LETHAL WEAPON series, but he has shied away from roles that showcased those elements of his personality. In WHAT WOMEN WANT, he never once picks up a gun of any kind. He picks up a hairdryer, and he still kills. Mel Gibson delivers a wonderfully entertaining comic performance in WHAT WOMEN WANT, the kind of performance that should make for classic comedy.
We'll forgive Gibson on grounds of inexperience for not choosing the sort of script that could show off his newfound comic chops. WHAT WOMEN WANT, a film that could have been GROUNDHOG DAY brilliant, comes out merely adequate thanks to a script that's about two re-writes away from being ready. Gibson stars as Nick Marshall, a divorced Chicago advertising executive, man's man and career chauvinist. Nick expects to be promoted to creative director, but his boss (Alan Alda) instead opts to bring in Darcy Maguire (Helen Hunt) to provide the sensitivity to women's concerns Nick clearly lacks. Then a twist of fate -- and an electric shock -- endows Nick with the ability to hear women's thoughts. It's a gift Nick fears at first, until he realizes he can use it to his advantage in any number of ways, including undermining Darcy.
WHAT WOMEN WANT is a gimmick movie, which can easily turn into an empty marketing-friendly concept without some competent execution. In Mel Gibson, they have a more than competent star to execute that gimmick. Mel knocks out every twist of character and goofy situation he's handed, from the swagger of the opening scenes to his broader physical gags to his quiet moments with Hunt. He sells the humor in a macho guy both playing sensitive and actually becoming sensitive. It's not jaw-dropping film acting by any means, but it's so deft with the fluffy material that you'd think he'd been doing it all his life.
I wish the same could be said of the writers. At over two hours, WHAT WOMEN WANT is a textbook example of a film with no sense of its story's essential elements. There's a lengthy, unnecessary prologue psychoanalyzing Nick's relationship with his Vegas showgirl mother; there's a lengthy scene of Nick dancing in his apartment to Frank Sinatra; there's an encounter between Nick and a therapist that exists only for the sake of a distracting cameo. Supporting characters pack the fringes of every frame, giving Nick sub-plots with a suicidal co-worker, his teenage daughter (Ashley Johnson), and a high-strung coffee shop cashier (Marisa Tomei). There's hardly a scene in WHAT WOMEN WANT that doesn't feel like it should either be a minute shorter or absent altogether. Instead of making all the necessary plot and character points efficiently the first time, screenwriters Josh Goldsmith and Cathy Yuspa opt to make the same point multiple times, just so we don't miss it.
There are definitely some worthwhile individual moments to make up for the sloppy structure. Some of them are pure script moments, like the internal monologue Nick hears while trying to show off his sexual prowess. Others are combinations of script and performance, like Gibson's drunken experimentation with a number of women's products. And many of them are purely showcases for the actors -- including Hunt, who tames her patrician chilliness and delivers her most engaging big screen comic performance. This is really a star vehicle, though, and if it provides any enjoyment, it's from the pleasure of watching a macho man have so much fun doing something he's never done before. Give credit to director Nancy Meyers for finding this performance in Mel Gibson. Give credit to Mel Gibson for finding this performance in himself. And next time, let's hope we can give him credit for picking better material.
On the Renshaw scale of 0 to 10 playful weapons: 6.
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