OK, I knew what to expect from the name of the movie: 90 minutes of cock jokes.
And sometimes that works.
An Airplane-style parody of the slew of musical bio pics (Walk the Line, Ray, etc.) this is played hilariously straight. It's so spot-on to the source material that it even pulls many of the same tricks -- middle-aged actors playing teenagers, too much reliance on the drama of drugs, groupies and divorces and glossing over the subject's actual life.
Set to a kick-ass soundtrack, of course.
Now, John C. Reilly can actually *sing* (he got an Oscar nod for Chicago) and Walk Hard uses that to great effect as Dewey performs everything from 50s pop to country to 1960s protest songs and a so-horrible-its-funny disco remake of his greatest "hit." Tim Meadows, who's third-string at best, is surprisingly funny as Dewey's sidekick/drug pusher.
And random full-frontal male nudity must be the new hotness in Hollywood comedies. But then again, with a name like Dewey Cox ...
All that is pretty good, but the real gem of Walk Hard is the script. Almost too clever, the script is jammed with quotable lines that actually get funnier after you leave the theater. It's so smart it needs time to sink in.
Because I left the theater saying "that wasn't bad." Two days later, I'm still laughing every time I remember one of those bits. That's better than "not bad."
Give it a chance, but Walk Hard may need more than one viewing for full effect.
Let's go play machete fight. Ain't no terrible tragedy gonna happen today!
No comments:
Post a Comment