A Morgan Creek Produtions, Inc. and Franchise Pictures, LLC Presentation of a Rational Packaging Films Production in Association with Lansdown Films; Executive Produced by Elie Samaha and Andrew Stevens; Produced by David Willis and Allan Kaufman; Co-Produced by Don Carmody, James Holt and Tracee Stanley; Written by Mitchell Kapner; Directed by Jonathan Lynn
Opens February 18, 2000
The Whole Nine Yards is something of a guilty pleasure. In fact, if it weren't so much fun, it would be a certifiably bad movie. Yet, even with some bobbles like bad accents and a reliance on dopey pratfalls, it's not. It's got its tongue firmly in cheek and its heart in the right place. And, lets face it, that's a helluva a lot more than most films achieve.
Yet another entry into the zany hit man comedy genre, the film doesn't really offer anything fresh, but it still manages to reel you in by virtue of an infinitely likeable cast who have great chemistry and -- above all -- who seem to be having a blast. The result? The enjoyment is contagious and, as the actors cavort through the frenetic plot, you can't help but smile.
The set-up here is rich in comic possibilities, starting with the unlikely friendship that eventually buds between mild-mannered dentist Oz Oseransky (Matthew Perry) and his new neighbor, hit man Jimmy The Tulip Tudesky (Bruce Willis). The two men first strike up an awkward camaraderie through their shared hatred of mayonnaise on hamburgers. As Jimmy says, anyone who eats burgers knows that you only use ketchup. Now, Oz knows right off who Jimmy is -- how could you miss the tulip tattoo on his arm. So, he zips home and announces this discovery to his insipid wife Sophie (Rosanna Arquette), a nasty French creature (they live in Montreal) who hates everythign about Oz except his dental income.
Now, Jimmy isn't stupid. He knows that Oz recognizes him, even though Oz tries to conceal his terror. The trouble is that Jimmy is in hiding, having ratted out his former employer, the gangster Janni Gogolak (Kevin Pollak). This is where the fun begins. Sophie forces a very reluctant Oz to visit Janni and turn over Jimmy's whereabouts. There, Oz meets Jimmy's wife Cynthia (Natasha Henstridge) and falls for her in a big way. Their encounter delights Oz's goofy dental assistant Jill (Amanda Peet), who wishes Oz would get rid of witchy Sophie.
So, when does the killing come in? Just assume that everyone wants to kill everyone else. You'll get the picture and I won't be crucified for giving the plot away. Trust me, though, that there are at least a few surprises that make the shenanigans worth the wait. Despite the over-reliance on gags -- mostly Perry's Jerry Lewis-like pratfalls -- the comic element here is well-tuned. It's not guffaw funny; it's more like man, I'm embarrassed for laughing at this funny. Screenwriter Mitchell Kapner isn't brilliant, but he's got energy to burn and it comes through in the script at every turn.
Certainly, the actors seem to sense this energy and run with it. Willis is his old amiable self, playing a role that comes naturally to him. The same goes for Perry, who makes walking into walls look effortless and amusing. Likewise, Species'Henstridge shows herself to be more than a sexy alien and Michael Clarke Duncan as Frankie Figgs is the quintessential jovial tough guy, while Amanda Peet manages to combine dopey and sexy into one package. The weakest links here are Pollak and Arquette, whose accents feel pasted on. Never you mind, though, the accents just add to the goofy atmosphere.
When you go into the theater, don't expect an intensely clever comedy. Expect simple and silly. Director Jonathan Lynn means for The Whole Nine Yards to be farce, bordering on high camp. And, while this tone might seem out of place in today's jaded world, it still suckers you with its exuberance. Go ahead, laugh now. Feel guilty later.