House Bunny
I went to see House Bunny against my usual judgment for two reasons: 1. Anna Faris is always better than her materials, and brings a commitment to her choices that rivals big-money comic actors, and 2. Juno screenwriter Diablo Cody told me to (via Entertainment Weekly). Cody views the Playboy phenomenon in much the same way I do – a kind of retro, innocent dirtiness that never seems harmful or suspect, just bubble baths and sugar daddies. No, I haven’t seen a Playboy since my 1980 discovery of my grandfather’s stash, and the 1959 issue we used as a prop in a play. So maybe I am out of touch.
Anyway, the premise is simple: defrocked Bunny leaves Hef’s mansion and becomes house mother for a sorority of misfits. Leaving aside why any of these girls would want to align themselves with Greek culture (I only know the Texas version), you would assume, somewhat correctly, that makeovers ensue. What House Bunny bothers to do is to follow the makeover with the negative side of that shallow type of self-presentation, and even teach our hapless, saucer-eyed heroine a little something about what real friendship and relating to men is about.
Be not fooled – this movie is not all that funny. It’s not terrible, and it does amuse; what I am most grateful or is that it does actually address the women beneath the sexy makeup and hair. The movie was produced and designed by women, for the most part, but was directed by a man. As we all know, Hollywood men don’t think women can be funny, so they do a shopping montage and that’s lunch!
Two of the misfit collegiates in general shine. First is Mona (recently also in Nick and Nora’s Infinite Playlist), tough as and pierced by mails – why is she in a sorority at all? Her justifications to go inevitably along, though, were the funniest. Lead nerd Natalie (Superbad’s Emma Stone) is a real shining star in this ensemble. She rolls her eyes and moves and talks too much in just the right away – she’s a perfect nerd, and she’s hilarious and sweet and determined and eager and just great. Sure, the girls all clean up pretty good – this is a movie, after all – though Carrie May (Dana Goodman) remains refreshingly and annoyingly awkward even post-transformation. Her character was directed in a weird SNL-more-is-more kind of way (and resembled a female Mose from The Office), but Goodman still managed to sell it.
I think most of the flatness of humor comes from the directing and timing, rather than necessarily the dialogue or actor skill. More than once I thought to myself, “That joke totally could have worked,” and tsked away. Some seriously great gems of dialogue are sprinkled throughout this movie, but are lost among the midden of the failures in execution.
Colin Hanks throws away a chance to turn into his early-career father (not a criticism) by being an actually interesting and not black-or-white person. Mostly he’s relegated to straight man, a role he fulfills admirably, but he doesn’t just sit there like Stan Laurel.
Overall, though, whether it’s the director or the suits, the tone of the movie can be summed up with one couplet of dialogue. Upon two sorority sisters being referred to by Faris as sexy bitches, they exclaim with some incredulity and some glee: “Did she just call us bitches?” “Did she just call us sexy?” The line was thrown away, but the glimmer of newly minted self-esteem in both those lines deserved a better overall package in which to be presented. Wait for HBO, but watch it with some girl friends. Boys can enjoy the visuals while the ladies parse out the good intentions.
MPAA Rating PG-13
Release date 8/22/08
Time in minutes 97
Director Fred Wolf
Studio Sony Pictures
