The following review was written by Jaybird (He) and Honeybunny (She). Enjoy! Bringing Down the House (Steve Martin, Queen Latifah)
HE SAID:
Some comedies attempt to weave little jokes throughout the screenplay in order to set up the scenes that are supposed to deliver the big laughs. A lot of them try to do this, actually. It's a way of making sure the audience gets at least a few chuckles and feels they have gotten their money's worth. In Bringing Down the House, those scenes (there are two) are placed about half-way and four-fifths of the way into the movie respectively. The first so-called funny sequence involves two women (Queen Latifah and Missi Pyle) punching, kicking, and beating each other senseless because one asks "Hey Nanny, where's your broom... Jemima?", and the other says she's using it to clean up all "the white trash". A fight scene -- a terribly unfunny, hate-filled, fight scene -- ensues. The second allegedly comic sequence occurs when the oh-so-white Peter Sanderson (Steve Martin) flashes some money at some black youths from the safe confines of his trendy car and "buys" their clothing so he can gracefully fit into a nightclub frequented by African-Americans. Peter then takes his old, white guy posturing to the dance floor.
That neither of these climactic moments generates a single laugh isn't surprising. Martin has, after all, had his share of duds; particularly in vehicles where he hasn't had a hand in writing the script, as is the case here. That almost all of the comedy in Bringing Down the House manages to offend, or at the very least causes unmitigated confusion, qualifies it as an early contender for one of the worst movies of the year.
Peter (Martin) is a lawyer whose big client, an heiress named Mrs. Arness (Joan Plowright), could land him lots of cash if he can pursuade her to trust him with her investments. That isn't the only thing he has to look forward to: an ongoing chat room relationship with a mysterious woman could change his current romance situation. When he finally meets Charlene (Queen Latifah), he is surprised to find she is not the slim blonde he had assumed. Not to worry though, Peter's friend Howie Rottman (Eugene Levy) thinks she's a dreamboat. The only thing left to do at this point is start the stopwatch and time how long it takes to get to the happy ending finish line.
Some of the performers here are either underutilized or simply unenergetic. Former Golden Girl Betty White is quite agonizing as the nosy next door neighbour, and the Practice's Steve Harris is relegated to a thug role that is equally painful to sit through. Jean Smart is forgettable as the ex-wife who has a change of heart because the screenwriter deems it necessary. As for Martin and Latifah, well, they share some interesting moments together, but for the most part it feels like they're playing in two separate movies, only intermittently allowing their paths to cross. Both actors seem to be having fun, but they rarely allow the viewer to share in the sentiment.
How many more comedies are going to work in an obligatory scene where someone sprinkles bowel-sensitive stuff into an unwitting victim's meal? Or where we see a too-preoccupied-with-work father who doesn't make enough time for his family (including that old standy-by, the cell phone that always cues its ring at the most inopportune moments)? How 'bout that scene where the teenage daughter goes to a wild party that ends up being "more than she can handle" and she needs to be rescued from the scary situation? Or the stodgy, wealthy senior citizen who takes her dog with her everywhere she goes? These tired cliches must be in an as-yet-unpublished novel that's been circulating among Hollywood writers for the past two decades or something.
When dealing with issues such as race, there can be a fine line in comedies. Rather than ridicule the stereotypes that society rushes to assign to African-Americans, Asians, and Caucasians, Bringing Down the House freely promotes them. A smarter screenplay would challenge these labels and would consequently end up being ten times funnier. In the real world, the expression "bringing down the house" is supposed to be a good thing. However in this case, I think I prefer to interpret it in a literal sense. Indeed, replete with awkward subject matter and banal jokes, this House should be condemned.
SHE SAID:1/2
I didn’t find anything particularly wrong or incorrect with Bringing Down The House… A clear 3 Act structure, a protagonist, an antagonist, an obstacle, a plot and an emotional resolution where the invaluable lesson of family first were made apparent in the film…I have one thing to say about your perfectly scripted movie: Big freakin’ Deal! Wooptie-freakin-Do! It’s been done, about a kazillion times! How about the intended comedic aspects which were staler than President’s Choice cola? The main characters’ interactions were flatter than Calista Flockhart’s chest.
Alongside my sidekick Jay, I was not amused by the Afro-American comedic duds. Although not offended, I was simply indifferent. This is what was heard from all around me during the 22 minute, 139 second club scene where Steve attempts to “get jiggy with it”: “ ”. Nothing. Not a peep or a cackle, just the ambivalent grunt of another disappointed schmuck. This being said, I did chuckle twice. The cat fight scene between the 2 women where there was mention of Tai-Bo tickled me briefly, as did the scene when the old wealthy woman was stoned and giggling at the end. Frankly, the only reason that amused me was because it reminded me of an incident a few years back…
One particular scene resumes its unfathomable predictability. Will Steve Martin answer his cell phone at the end and therefore fail his journey or will he let the damn thing ring and prove the lesson was learned. Oh my goodness, I can’t take the suspense! I’m biting all of my nails off… Phew, he didn’t answer it…boy, was I worried there for a moment…I thought for sure he was going to pick it up! Puh-leeze!
Although I could have sworn that the scenes between Steve and Queenie were filmed separately then cut and pasted together, they are, thankfully, visually entertaining or at least tolerable; Steve, for his familiarity and Queenie for her spunk. On the other hand, Levy and Queenie’s connection was evident and enjoyable. There was the indispensable and indescribable spark and spontaneous energy flow between Levy and Queenie. I liked that. I actually cared that they hooked up together.
I do want to congratulate the screenwriter for doing ONE original thing in the script. He somehow successfully included each and every most used comedic cliché available in the movie industry. My belief is that one was strategically placed every 3.5 minutes. Good for you. Your mother must be proud. Laughter could be heard intermittently by the audience over the overly scripted comedy by obvious mid 40’s Martin fans.
The best part of the movie, if I absolutely have to choose one, is undoubtedly the many cute and trendy fashions displayed by Queenie from beginning to the end of the movie. I made definite outfit ideas. I also realized that big hoop earrings look good with 2 braids and a side-worn cap. An above knee denim skirt is a good idea with a cute ruffle shirt. When I left the theatre I had the urge to go shopping for those nifty clothes ideas…as a reward for sitting all the way through this movie.
