The Stepford Wives (Nicole Kidman, Matthew Broderick) 1/2
The Danger of Conformity is one of those subjects that gets thrown about in sci-fi and horror movies because its peril can be readily exaggerated in order to bring the message home. Although it can be argued the new version of Ira Levin's The Stepford Wives is a tale of equality among the sexes or a pro/anti-feminist film, its strongest statement comes in the form of conformity. Human beings continuously strive for perfection, while simultaneously always wanting to carve themselves out in unique and special molds as often as they possibly can. Although this production may not entirely succeed in delivering that theme, it nevertheless raises the issue in a comic and whimsical way, thus saving it from becoming a complete disaster.
Nicole Kidman plays Joanna Eberhard, a TV producer who is canned for introducing a nasty reality show that could potentially cause big legal problems for the network. She and her husband Walter (Matthew Broderick) move to Stepford, Connecticut in the hopes of repairing their marriage and re-discovering themselves in the process. They discover the female citizens of the town are eerily pristine and the men are uniformly mediocre in appearance at best. While Walter sees no cause for alarm, Joanna is suspicious of all her new neighbours. All, that is, except Bette Midler and Roger Bart, who respectively play a laissez-faire best-selling author and a flamboyant gay man; both immune to the Barbie and Ken doll phenomenon.
With her children away at camp, Joanna seems content to let things be and spend more time changing herself to improve her marriage until odd developments arise, developments such as people disappearing, or worse yet, reappearing as "perfected" versions of their former selves. Two likely suspects for the oddities are town leaders Mike and Clair Wellington (Christopher 'Paycheck' Walken and Glenn Close), but what exactly is going on? The movie drags the answer out over the span of 90 minutes, not the least of which including a false ending, a painfully laboured Talking Villain speech, and a phony happy conclusion for the showbiz heroes with that tried-and-true cameo feller, Larry King (as himself).
The film is directed by Yoda, a.k.a. Frank Oz, whose most recent efforts Bowfinger and the Score demonstrated an ability to find -- and showcase -- a good story and secure fine ensemble casts. Here, although the script offers a few bright moments of sharp dialogue, the story itself is mired in anti-climactic suspense and one glaring plot point late in the proceedings adds confusion to the fray. After one of Joanna and Walter's discoveries, it becomes unclear whether the titular wives were at one point different women altogether or if they have always been the same women. The messy handling of the central mystery has become fodder for many critics since the film's release.
Given the starched backdrop, the performances are fairly straight-forward, bouncing between stereotypes and lifelessness, as is required. Neither Broderick and Kidman have been this flat in quite some time. Glenn Close and Bette Midler nail many of their moments, yet we never really feel they nail their characters. Even the production design is a little restrained and not nearly ominous enough; I'd love to see what someone like Tim Burton might have done with this story.
I can think of a few people who might actually learn something from watching The Stepford Wives. Its satire is not very subtle, but its overriding message, that nobody's perfect and we as human beings are more content and better off that way, might resonate on some sets of ears. Unfortunately, it's also one of those would-be comedies that tries so hard that its insecurities seep through uncontrollably. On the surface, the people of Stepford may seem flawless, but the same cannot be said of this uneven motion picture.
