New Releases: The Wedding Crashers

What can I say about The Wedding Crashers? Well, I didn't hate it as badly as I hated Shark Boy and Lava Girl. That's not setting a very high bar, but at least it's a bar.

I went to this film expecting (or, at least, hoping) to like it. I like Vince Vaughn, a lot. I think he's sexy, in a dorky sort of way.  Owen Wilson I'm not quite as crazy about, but he can be funny. The trailer looked somewhat promising, so I wasn't without hope that this would be an enjoyable two hours. The film is directed by David Dobkin, who previously directed Wilson in Shanghai Knights. With Shanghai Knights, Dobkin smartly stayed out of the way and let his charismatic leads do the work, and he does the same thing here, giving Vaughn and Wilson lots of wiggle-room to play around. When the film is at it's best, Vaughn and Wilson are quite funny. Unfortunately, that's just not enough to carry this film.

Here's the basic problem with The Wedding Crashers: everyone in the movie is a caricature, and not in a good way like the characters in Dodgeball.

Vaughn and Wilson play Jeremy and John, two guys in Washington, D.C., who live in anticipation of "wedding season", the time when they crash weddings under made-up identities, to score with an endless parade of vulnerable and willing bridesmaids and wedding guests. They revel in crashing other people's intimate moments, and they don't just sit in the background once they're there. No, they get right up in the spotlight, getting photographed with the bride and groom, helping cut the wedding cake, leading the crowd in the obligatory dancing to "Shout!" at the reception.

They have it all down, play-by-play, from a set of Rules handed down to Jeremy by a mysterious character named Chaz, a 40-year-old guy who lives in his mother's basement. If you think that following the rules of love laid out by a 40-year-old guy who still lives with his mother is not an especially good life plan, believe me, I'm right there with you.

Jeremy and John have the fine art of wedding crashing down to a science. They do their research, they've got their backstories, they've got an array of plans at their disposal for wooing the vulnerable women in their path. Fake tears during the vows? Check. Dancing with the flower girl? Check. Make balloon animals for the kids? Check. Telling sad stories about dead friends? Check. If it all seems a bit, well, contrived - it is. And I'm just getting started.

Jeremy and John decide to crash the Mother of All Weddings - the wedding of the eldest daughter of the U.S. Secretary of the Treasury. They have a master plan for getting into this affair, which promises to be especially plush, with three bands, and oysters, and probably crab cakes! Well, heck, if there are oysters and crab cakes, I guess it's worth the hassle of faking your way past the Secret Service agents.

They get in the wedding, and both set their sights on sisters of the bride; Jeremy has his eye on the red-haired youngest daughter, Gloria (Scooby Doo's Isla Fisher), while John is checking out the middle daughter, Claire (Mean Girls' Rachel McAdams, who looks far more fetching here as a creamy-skinned brunette). Jeremy manages to score with Gloria on the beach, but freaks when she tells him she was a virgin and starts talking about them being together forever. Jeremy wants to bail - fast - but John is already falling for Claire, who, unfortunately for him, has a boyfriend. When Gloria invites the boys to come with the family to their "little summer place" (a huge oceanfront mansion), John eagerly accepts for both of them, much to Jeremy's chagrin.

Christopher Walken and Jane Seymour, as the Treasury Secretary and his wife, do the most they can with the limited material they have to work with, but both actors are sadly wasted in this vehicle. Walken phones in a performance that is but a pale shadow of his most excellent turn in 2002's  Catch Me If You Can. By far the most annoying aspect of this film, though, is Claire's boyfriend, who is a real jerk. Fakey-nice on the surface, he's a bad guy underneath, as the heavy-handed script insists on pointing out again and again. And again. Okay, we get the point. The Boyfriend is a jerk, Our Hero, John, in spite of his habit of picking up chicks at weddings so he can "close on that ass" (yeah, that's actually a line in the film), is really a Nice Guy. A hooker with a heart of gold, so to speak.

And here's the other thing that irritated me about the relationship between Claire and her boyfriend: this girl is supposed to be super-smart and independent minded. And yet, she's been dating this phony buffoon for over three years, and hasn't yet grokked that he's a world-class jerk who's been boffing every waitress, bartender and stripper in DC behind her back? Give me a break. No self-respecting woman would be caught dead with a worm like this, and it wouldn't take a guy like Owen Wilson to make her figure it out.

Keir O'Donnell tries really hard as Todd, the odd son who, instead of liking competitive sports like his brothers and dad, dares to be - an artist! A weirdly hunched over artist, who snivels like a rabid ferret. And, of course, he's gay. Because you can't have a weird son who's an artist imitating a rabid ferret and not make him gay, right? Riiiight. Will Ferrell is just over-the-top as the wild-and-crazy Chaz, a character that would seem more at home in a Saturday Night Live sketch than in this film.

The last third or so of the film gets lost in a mire of bad jokes and implausible happenings, and the packed audience at the screening, which had been attentive and laughing during the funnier first part of the film, started shifting restlessly in their seats, eager, no doubt, as I was, for the film to wrap it up already. It does so, in a predicatable manner. There are some funny moments early on, and a couple of plot twists that more or less serve to keep things interesting, but overall, my feelings toward this film were lukewarm. If I'd paid nine bucks to get in, instead of catching it at a press/promo screeing, I'd probably be wishing I'd spent the money on a couple of Venti soy lattes instead. If you just really, really love Vince Vaughn or Owen Wilson, this film may be worth your time and money. Everyone else? Wait for it to come out on DVD, and go see Rize or My Summer of Love instead.