Monday, Nov. 10, 2008

'Role Models' entertains but isn't memorable

By Edward Robertson, atomictown.com

When you think about it, which I don't recommend no matter what "it" is, the notion of being a role model is kind of creepy.

The whole point is you always have to be good. Right. I passed out on my couch twice last night, and only once because of food. Can you imagine what it's like to be a pro sports player? You probably can't even assault a woman in a bar without some high and mighty ESPN reporter getting uppity about setting a bad example for the kids you don't even like.

Screw that noise. If that's the price of success, then fail me up. Besides, kids don't need good examples, they need to be tied up in sleeping bags until they're 16 years old. Having to like teach and mentor them really would be the sort of alternative to prison time it's presented as in Role Models.

Pitchmen Seann William Scott and Paul Rudd spend their days lecturing kids to stay off drugs and drink their energy drink instead, a job Scott loves and Rudd despises. When Rudd's mounting ennui pushes girlfriend Elizabeth Banks to break up with him, it sends him off the deep end, culminating in a jacked-up car crash that threatens to send Scott and Rudd to jail.

Banks, a lawyer, gets them off with community service at a local youth center, which Rudd quickly decides is worse than being imprisoned when he's paired with shy, nerdy Christopher Mintz-Plasse and Scott is set up with angry and hostile Bobb'e J. Thompson.

The arc of Role Models shouldn't come as a shock: irresponsible grownups are paired with young misfits; misfits are a handful, but eventually bond with the adults who are coming to appreciate their unique spirit; grownups screw it all up, alienate the kids, and have to regain their trust before the credits roll.

For those this plot does shock, I suggest you immediately cancel your social life, order 29 HBOs, and do not leave your living room until your knowledge of Hollywood tropes is second to few. That's been my plan for the last four years, and I've got an audience of literally dozens, a rented home, and enough snazzy T-shirts to last me a whole week.

Given that its story isn't cutting any new trails, the movie's success hinges on two things: its heart and its humor. Well, that and its characters, insight, and something I just made up which I'll call the Weirdness Quotient, but I didn't pay any attention to that stuff, so we'll stick with those first two things I said.

Role Models has this thing going where it has plenty of modest laughs but no real killers. Its comedy is violence- and vulgarity-heavy. Violence and swearing are the f---ing bomb, but they can be an easy out, too. Until its gleefully ridiculously ending, the jokes just don't feel that inspired. Funny, yeah, but not "reenact lines and scenes with your friends on the car ride home until the one guy who didn't like it starts punching everybody"-level funny.

Heart-wise, it's in about the same boat. It respects its characters, yet those characters are pretty cliched, leaving the payoff thinner than it ought to be.

But if you had reservations about these things going into the third act, the ultra-goofy finale goes out in enough of a high note to put some of those doubts to rest. Otherwise, Role Models falls squarely into the camp of films that are fun to watch at the time and hard to remember a week later.

Grade: B-