MY MOVIE SHELF: The Wedding Singer

The Task: Watch and write about every movie on my shelf, in order (Blu-rays are sorted after DVDs), by June 10, 2015.  Remaining movies: 141  Days to go: 96

Movie #297:  The Wedding Singer

Just over a year ago, Adam Sandler and Drew Barrymore made an appearance on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon, and sang a little ditty about how they make a movie together every ten years or so, and Sandler surprised Drew by winding it up with a sweet “grow old with you” line from the little ditty he sings her at the end of The Wedding Singer. It’s so sweet and charming and lovely, and it strikes right at the heart of Adam Sandler’s strengths.

The reason The Wedding Singer is such a great, successful romantic comedy is because of its heart — and its Robbie Hart. Robbie Hart is Sandler’s character, and he is completely adorable and kind-hearted here. He’s sweet and honest, open and caring, and there’s absolutely none of the obnoxious, jaded cynicism he brings to a lot of his other movies. In fact, the character of Robbie Hart has no use for the woman-chasing, woman-objectifying, woman-using types of guys exemplified by Glenn (Matthew Glave), fiancé to Barrymore’s Julia. (Once again, it’s a movie wherein the sweet object of our hero’s affection is in a relationship with a duplicitous male, making it all the more acceptable for our hero to break them up, but the movie does it well and authentically on an emotional level, so I’ll allow it.) It’s completely a story of true friendship and affection, genuinely liking the person you fall in love with and in that making all the difference.

Of course, Robbie is just as delightful when he’s maudlin and suicidal. His song “Somebody Kill Me” is easily my favorite moment of a film — a film full of wonderful moments, really — because it’s so hilariously funny and also so exactly like what it feels like to be summarily dumped the way he was. It’s brilliant and awesome and I love it. (His “Love Stinks” is also pretty great.)

The ’80s setting also provides a lot of fun, from the outfits to the songs to the way all Robbie and Julia’s friends emulate some sort of 1980s pop icon. Glen’s all about Miami Vice (and he drives a freakin’ DeLorean, for the crying out loud), Holly (Christine Taylor) is a lacy, boytoy-era Madonna wannabe, Sammy (Allen Covert) wears a red leather Michael Jackson jacket (AND SEQUINNED GLOVE), and George (Alexis Arquette) is basically in permanent Boy George cosplay. On top of that, you’ve got little old lady Rosie (Ellen Albertini Dow) throwing down “Rapper’s Delight,” some dude with a serious Flock of Seagulls obsession, Jon Lovitz passing for a pretty believable nightmare wedding singer, and Billy Fucking Idol himself cameoing as the beautiful rock god he was, guzzling champagne, sneering at people, making jerkoff gestures at douchebags and enticing the occasional mature older woman into joining the Mile High Club. It’s a great movie, is what I’m saying. (The only slip up is Julia wearing a dress and combat boots out to the club. I promise you it was 1992 AT LEAST before anyone was rocking that look.)

The Wedding Singer is sweet and wonderful, start to finish, with a positive attitude and a full heart on its sleeve. It knows that loving someone enough to marry them means wanting to grow old with them and to share all those little moments that make up a lifetime together. It’s about doing things to make your partner happy, because you know your partner is doing things to make you happy, and because seeing your partner happy does make you happy. And it’s about finding someone to hold you and be there for you always, to be your best friend and most cherished companion.

And if that’s not enough for you, well, then at least you finally know you can thank Robbie’s ex-fiancée for breaking up Van Halen.

MY MOVIE SHELF: Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story

The Task: Watch and write about every movie on my shelf, in order (Blu-rays are sorted after DVDs), by June 10, 2015.  Remaining movies: 288  Days to go: 277

Movie #89: Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story

“Donde esta la biblioteca, Pedro?”

Dodgeball is a really funny movie that holds up to multiple viewings. Pondering why this might be today as I watched, I realized pretty quickly that it’s because Dodgeball is positively stacked with jokes. Jokes upon jokes upon jokes. Whatever your style of jokes preference is, Dodgeball has a joke for you.

Dry joke partisans will appreciate Vince Vaughn as Peter LaFleur, playing the straight, low-key guy against all the craziness around him. With the pop of an eyebrow and a one-liner at the ready, LaFleur is the king of the wry observation. Given Vaughn’s history of being both inclined to and in danger of taking things overboard, putting him in this role successfully reins him in and uses him to the movie’s best advantage. As a complement to Vaughn is Christine Taylor as Kate Veatch, a tough girl, a baller athlete and a consummate professional, she puts everyone in their places with cutting remarks. It’s the kind of stuff keen observers and dry wits appreciate.

Those looking for absurdist comedy, however, won’t be disappointed either. Dodgeball is practically bursting with it. From the cheerleading Donkeys to the Average Joe’s carwash, to the entire concept of a Dodgeball tournament, the whole film is silly and goofy and weird. There are also characters Patches O’Houlihan (Rip Torn) and Steve the Pirate (Alan Tudyk), whose entire existence is bizarre, not to mention the steaming ball of crazy named White Goodman (played by steaming ball of crazy Ben Stiller). White is a treasure trove of wackadoo, self-abusing (literally and figuratively) with food, obsessing over his appearance and throwing his nonexistent weight around in the biggest (haha) Napoleonic complex you’ve ever seen.

White is also constantly misusing idioms and mangling language, which is intellectual humor at its finest. Another great intellectual joke? There is a chest full of money at the end literally labeled “Deus Ex Machina.” These are the jokes not everybody gets, but the people who do love them all the more for their obscurity. Stiller is unsubtle enough with his stuff that it’d be hard to miss here, but it’s still pretty artfully and smartly done. White’s use of a deep, raspy voice when he wants to sound profound is hilarious, especially when what he actually says is nonsense. And yet, White’s surplus of funny doesn’t stop there.

Physical comedy fans have a lot to look forward to in Dodgeball, and White Goodman’s performance of “Milkshake” over the end credits is a major highlight. It’s not the only one, though. Stephen Root is a delight as awkward, dorky Gordon, and I’ve long been a fan of Justin Long’s hapless earnestness (or earnest haplessness). Long, especially, has been a favorite of mine since his turn in the TV show Ed, and here, playing the character Justin, he’s just as lovable, just as jittery, and just as uncomfortable in his skin. His cheerleading routines and his workout attempts are great, but him getting hit in the head with that wrench (“If you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a ball.”) is gold. Another skilled purveyor of physical comedy is Missi Pyle, who is always willing, in every role she’s ever taken, to completely forsake her own vanity for the good of a role. She’s like Melissa McCarthy and Anna Faris in that way, only she gets far less recognition for it. Here, Pyle stars as Fran, some Eastern European Slavic athlete with a fierce unibrow and jacked-up teeth. With a deep voice and a terrifying mole, she’s the scariest player on any team.

The place Dodgeball really shines, though, is as a sports parody. Not just a sports movie parody — though it does touch on the clichés of the passionate coach, the intense training montages, the underdog victories, the noble cause, the huge setback, playing with The Force, and the motivational speech — but a parody on all aspects of sports. There are the Dodgeball Dancers, the hilarious fan signs in the crowd (“Joe’s Knows Balls.”), ESPN 8 “the Ocho,” the tagline “Go Balls Deep,” the intricate and confusing rules, the silly little red penalty rope the ref dangles in front of White for a warning, the overblown introductions of all the teams, and the two commentators played by Gary Cole (as the play-by-play man) and Jason Bateman (in a huge and fabulous departure from the kinds of roles he usually plays, as the flighty, rockstar color commentator). Cole is gloriously self-serious, dropping brilliant lines about the Helsinki championship of 1919 and the perfect, “Do you believe in unlikelihood?!” Meanwhile, Bateman is distracted and cavalier, making the kind of useless and nonsensical comments any sports fan knows aren’t too far off the mark from the things real commentators say.  (Watch a game sometime — any game. You’ll see what I mean.)

I first saw Dodgeball in the theater with my brother — one of the few times we’ve hung out together, just the two of us, given our big age difference and the substantial geographical distance between us — and it’s a memory I really treasure because of that. I always think of him when I watch it, but I also enjoy the movie on its merits. Those merits being lots and lots and lots of jokes. I always appreciate funny.

“Fuckin’ Chuck Norris.”