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BaftaBaby 
"Always entranced by cinema."
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 Posted - 06/29/2007 : 13:59:26
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Are We Done Yet?
If the title credits hadn't mentioned the film was based on the Cary Grant 1948 vehicle Mr Blandings Builds His Dream House, you may not have spotted the connection. Okay, the premise is similar given an urban family of four crowded so far out of their minute apartment that the only options are homicide or moving.
There are parallels too between Grant's advertising executive with a vital deadline and Ice Cube's Sports Magazine publisher chasing financial backing for his launch dependent on Magic Johnson as cover story. The former makes Grant's dilemma of work pressure versus house-building hell a source of constant comic tension, capitalizing once again on the star's impeccable timing and epitomizing what used to be called screwball comedies. Mr Cube, though perfectly pleasant during the scenes in which he's not required to be perfectly unpleasant, cannot stretch his timing as a musician to make the most of a comic moment. Of course the script doesn't do him any favours: his publishing dilemma exists as an adjunct to the house-building, a sidebar annoyance whose resolution dribbles away as fast and as unbelievably as his bank balance.
Are We Done Yet? isn't so much a screwball comedy as a why-can't-everyone-just-like-each-other comedy. The original -- which actually isn't so great compared with other Grant classics like Bringing Up Baby -- at least knows how to extend comic mileage with the implication, for example, that his wife might be having a fling with the family lawyer. Given the undeniable attractiveness of Grant compared with Melvyn Douglas, the thought is absurd, which adds to the comedy. But heaven forfend that the lovely Nia Long should even think of cheating with a man of another race, married as she is to the grumpy, overweight and unremarkable screen presence that is Ice Cube. Well, they get around that one by impregnating Nia with twins - because everyone knows a pregnant woman couldn't possibly indulge in anything extra-marital, let alone anything inter-racial. Her 'condition' ups the ante for the opening premise that moving is the only practical option, and is a handy visual reference for months passing as the rebuilding stretches into infinity, but it also firmly reduces her character's comic force in the plot and the relationship.
The film screams TV sitcom, and is as insubstantial as the house the family is reduced to rebuilding. What almost saves it is the appearance of John C. McGinley as Chuck Mitchell a small town fixer in the mold of Jon Voigt's Milo Minderbinder in Catch 22 - whatever's needed, he'll fix it for you. Mitchell adjusts his demeanor, vocabulary, and personality depending on which of his many hats he has on at the time - and that array of headgear includes building contractor, county inspector, midwife, onetime pro basketballer, yoga guru among others. It's a tour de force for McGinley; just when you think he's really gone over the top, he surprises with moments of depth and tenderness. You can see why, as an actor, he signed the contract. You just can't quite see what it has to do with a film which doesn't get too far down the road before you're screaming -- are we done yet?!!
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Edited by - BaftaBaby on 06/29/2007 14:01:00 |
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Are We Done Yet?
