"There's Something About Mary" was the best thing that ever happened to the Farrelly brothers - but perhaps it was the worst thing as well.
Why would this be the case? Because along with the massive popularity, huge financial success and critical kudos that the film enjoyed came unrestricted freedom for Peter and Bobby, the writer-directors of "Mary." Twentieth Century Fox, their studio, seemed to feel that a duo with the golden touch need not receive any guidance.
But even the mighty Midas ran out of luck. And with "Me, Myself and Irene," the Farrelly's "Mary" follow-up, they too fall flat on their faces. While they stick to their tried-and-true formula of shocks and gross-outs, there's one crucial ingredient absent from the mix: "Irene" really isn't that funny.
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This is especially unfortunate given the fact that Jim Carrey, Hollywood's most dependable comedic weapon of the last decade, stars as two of the films three title characters. As Charlie Bayleygates, a member of "the greatest law enforcement organization in the land" - the Rhode Island State Police force, Carrey makes his character such a milquetoast that he poses little to no threat at all to those that he must reprimand. How much of a pushover is he? So much so that when his wife leaves him to raise the three triplets she conceived during an ongoing affair with a brilliant black midget, Charlie doesn't give it a second thought.
Its only years later, after children Jamaal (Anthony Anderson), Lee Harvey (Mongo Brownlee) and Shonte Junior (Jerod Mixon) have reached voting age, that Charlie's suppressed rage catches up with him, in the form of the volatile split personality Hank.
This is quite an early point for the film to go south, but that's what happens. The Farrelly brothers demonstrated their ability for touching sentimentality in "Mary" in the scenes between Mary and her retarded brother Warren. Again, the best scenes are those that occur with the brothers working together, whether it be to help out their "father" or simply arguing about quantum physics. The loyalty and love they feel for Charlie is refreshing, and, surprisingly, never feels out of place.
But when the movie becomes Carrey's one-man, er, two-man, show is when it becomes clunky and overlong. As he shifts from Charlie to Hank, the actor is required to perform many absurd gymnastic contortions with both his limber body and famously rubber face. But this is the type of exercise that actors do in movement class; it's not what you expect to see done professionally in a feature film. We've seen such physicality done better as well, notably by Steve Martin in "All of Me."
As in "Mary," "Irene" must rely on its female protagonist to carry the film, and Renee Zellweger acquits herself nicely as a woman wrongly arrested on a bogus hit-and-run charge. She's really been set up by Lt. Gerke, the crooked father (Chris Cooper) of an ex-boyfriend, and must return to New York.
At this point, a series of convoluted and immediately forgettable events sets off a chase storyline. In addition to avoiding Gerke, Charlie also must try to prevent Hank from emerging. You see, both are vying for Irenes affection ... and Charlie has forgotten his rage suppression medication.
But it's virtually impossible to see why Hank would want Irene in the first place. The Farrellys, along with writer Mike Cerrone, have painted her without even a trace of a dark side. She clearly belongs with the Jekyll represented by Charlie, but there's no reason for her to attract Hank's Hyde.
Luckily, Zellweger, who held her own opposite Meryl Streep in "One True Thing" and shone in her first leading role with Tom Cruise in "Jerry Maguire," has a few tricks up her sleeve. Her puffy-faced squint, a perfect combination of been-there-done-that disappointment and earnest optimism, makes her utterly irresistible and attractively independent.
Zellweger can only do so much, however, when working with a solo performer like Carrey. Extremely talented and versatile though he may be, he's never been particularly generous in his film performances. Expect no difference here. However, even he can't bring anything fresh to the film, especially when playing the amazingly unfunny Hank.
And the aforementioned gross-outs, which include simulated defecation, a rubber phallus and a new place for an unfortunate chicken to come home to roost, fail to truly gross out. If the Farrelly's were trying to out-do "All of Me," this is certainly a half-assed effort.
At the end of "Irene," the Farrelly's dedicate the film to the late critic Gene Siskel, who was one of their loudest champions before they found major success. I have no doubt that they will come back around. Their movies may make them seem like bastards, but they love film too much to bastardize the art.
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