The Year in Film 2005
It's been bugging me for months. Why did I not hate Deuce Bigalow: European Gigolo? I mean, what's there to like? Let's review the laundry list of hate factors, shall we?
- Sequel
- Sequel to a bad first film
- Best stuff is in the preview (Eddie Griffin's souped-up boat)
- Best stuff is simply a retread of another film's joke (souped-up 747 in Soul Plane)
- SNL vehicle
- SNL vehicle for weak SNL regular
- Puerile screenplay
- Puerile sexual screenplay
Any one of those factors by itself can make me hate a movie. And then there's the subtle stuff, like the title "European", but all the action takes place in Amsterdam, and the poster — which depicts Italy only to get a cheap sexual innuendo in. Ah, what writing.
And yet, it was loads better than say, White Chicks. Why? Rob Schneider can no more carry a film than, say, Tim Meadows can. His lone cinematic contribution is being the idiot who yells "you can do eeeet!" during every Adam Sandler travesty.
While White Chicks aimed, shot and missed badly on the following huge targets: white people, black people, rich people, women, the FBI, etc. Deuce Bigalow seems only to have scoped out gigolos and their clientele. Each doorbell Deuce rings incites such a Pandora's Box of social and physical pariahdom that can only infer that gigolos are pathetic and those who use their services cannot get a man any other way. While I'm fairly certain neither of those statements are true, I know nothing of the venue, hence no offense taken (a clear advantage to Deuce over White Chicks). If gigolos want to call this the worst film ever made, feel free; it's your right.
I hate to say it, but there were also some nice touches in European Gigolo. Eddie Griffin's disguises had an outrageous Clouseau-esque feel to them. We also get a montage of Deuce helping his clientele with their various maladies. It was awful to put "penis-nose woman" on the screen… but it was nice to see Deuce help her get a nose job. White Chicks just wanted to get the Wayans brothers laid — on and off screen. Perhaps I infer too much there, but I doubt it.
Look, I'm not saying this film had a great deal of merit, or should have been made, but the fact is if you locked me in a Deuce II/White Chicks only theater, I'd probably watch European Gigolo twice before staring at the popcorn machine for the rest of the night.
It still seems strange to want to argue the merits of a very bad film. There's only one possible conclusion: in a year that celebrated mediocrity like few before it, perhaps it's fitting that the screenplay earmarked for "worst film of the year" creep slightly above Hollywood's own Mendoza line, so to speak.
So why did I bother discussing Deuce II? Because that's how much respect I have for Golden Globe winners (and assumed Oscar frontrunners) Brokeback Mountain and Walk the Line, neither of which I would recommend to movie goers, gay cowboys or even Johnny Cash himself.
By the way — If you can get used to the idea that over the next 10,000 words I'm going to attack whatever you liked in 2005, we can get along fine here together.
Now let's get on with it.