Review: Imagine That

Why do bad movies happen to good people? Eddie Murphy gives a very warm, very funny performance as a stressed-out financial executive trying to be a better parent to his seven-year-old daughter in Imagine That, which opened wide today. Evan Danielson is a gentler variation on the wholesome paternal figures he's previously played in Doctor Dolittle, Daddy Day Care, and The Haunted Mansion. In those roles, he's portrayed successful workaholics who've neglected their families to varying degrees.

He was beset by talking animals in Doctor Dolittle and its sequel, by a flock of other people's children in Daddy Day Care, and by ghosts in The Haunted Mansion. In contrast, Imagine That is much more intimate. Evan is beset by only two people: his daughter Olivia (Yara Shahidi), resentful of his neglect, puts a baby blue blanket on her head and talks to a group of imaginary friends; meanwhile, his fellow financial executive Johnny Whitefeather (Thomas Haden Church) trades on his Native American heritage to compete with Evan and steal his clients.

The film springs to life only at rare moments, which are surrounded by so much fatty tissue that you fear the movie will die of a heart attack before it huffs and puffs it way to the end credits. By "fatty tissue," I mean deadly dull exposition and endless set-ups for jokes that really aren't that funny. Though Imagine That extols the imagination and intelligence of young Olivia, and is clearly pitched to children under the age of 10, it does its audience no favors by constantly S-P-E-L-L-I-N-G E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G O-U-T.

Evan lives in a beautifully-appointed high-rise in Denver, Colorado, where he can look out on the city as he works late into the night. He is divorced from Trish (Nicole Ari Parker), a non-profit executive, with whom he shares alternating, weekly custody of Olivia, and this particular week of custody falls during an incredibly stressful time for him. He's called out of a client meeting for a school "emergency," which is where Olivia and her imaginary friends are introduced. Evan really doesn't want to deal with his little girl -- she emits a piercing scream whenever he tries to separate her from her beloved Goo-Gaa (i.e., blanket) -- but Trish has her own set of business pressures and refuses Evan's request to trade weeks.

Evan spends a strained night with Olivia, ignores the messages she insists on relating to him from her imaginary friends, and then is compelled by her piercing scream -- it really is an annoying, high-pitched, please-make-it-stop primal banshee yell -- to take her to work with him. What results from the day is that Evan is proclaimed an investment genius because he inadvertently passed on the messages from Olivia's imaginary friends to an important client, and the messages presciently (magically?) provided accurate advice on wise investment in financial markets.

No dummy, Evan coaxes from Olivia the steps involved to repeat the magic. Blanket rubbing, special words, and dancing follow. Evan feels like a fool because Olivia's friends really are imaginary; there's no sudden appearance of CGI creatures representing the three princesses, their dragon, or their queen. Olivia "relays" the messages in childish language and imagery; Evan starts passing it on, even using the same childish language when talking to the firm's clients (to their disbelief), and adding a few simple words of financial advice ("buy," "sell," "diversify"). His boss Tom Stevens (Ronny Cox) questions his sources of information, but can't argue with the wildly profitable results. Whitefeather jealously tries to steal his thunder by uncovering his secrets. And Olivia enjoys the greater attention she's receiving from her father.

Two lengthy sequences between Evan and Olivia establish and build on a sweet rapport between father and daughter. They're both longer than they need to be, but their languid nature feels right; the bond between a parent and child should never be forced or feel rushed. They would work even better, though, if the rest of the film wasn't so sluggish and slow.

Karey Kirkpatrick here makes his debut as a live-action director. He previously co-directed the animated Over the Hedge, and has screenplay credits that are all over the quality map (James and the Giant Peach, Flakes, The Spiderwick Chronicles). Working from a script credited to Ed Solomon and Chris Matheson, Kirkpatrick can't overcome the patience-testing opening sequences, which labor to paint a picture of an overworked executive without including any true motivation for his ceaseless ambition, which has already cost him his marriage. Is he driven by greed, desperation, or what, exactly? His inner motives won't matter to the children in the audience, who are being taught the pleasing lesson that children must take priority over everything else in a parent's life, but it should matter to their parents.

Putting psychological complexity aside -- it's just a movie, right? -- Imagine That never ramps up to the kind of snappy pace that's needed for a comedy with very few visual gags. Murphy is surrounded by a cast whose talents do not lend themselves to comic roles and who, in any case, have precious few funny bits to deliver. You get the sense that Murphy is working by himself, trying desperately to inject life and vitality into a stale production. When he breaks loose, as in a boardroom presentation gone wild, he creates a welcome sense of mad merriment. The movie then marches on mirthlessly to the next scene.

Murphy, at least, gets some time to shine and does his best to provide an entertaining show. On the other hand, pity poor Thomas Haden Church. As Johnny Whitefeather, he vomits forth a steady stream of gibberish masquerading as words of "Indian" wisdom, which we're supposed to believe is enough to impress high-level clients and management alike. His sub-Vegas lounge act could conceivably be funny in a twisted fashion if his character was ironically self-aware that he's prostituting a stereotypical image of Native Americans in order to baffle "The White Man" and make a ton of money, thus exacting revenge for more than a century of sins visited upon his people. Instead, he's revealed to be a super-sharp operator (supposedly) who's incapable of speaking in anything but fake "Indian" metaphorical language. It may be the most embarrassing performance of the year.

Imagine That is generally sweet-natured and family-friendly, and I did enjoy Murphy very much. Next time he wants to play a father, I hope he can find a better project in which to showcase his talents.