The Fabulous Baker Boys

Directed by Stephen Klores

Opening this weekend

The Fabulous Baker Boys shows off Michelle Pfeiffer's voice, Jeff Bridges' sophistication and Beau Bridges' spray-painted hair. And any flick that does all this with style, charm and a big dog named Ned is worth paying good money to see.

Baker Boys is a spiritual heir of the typical romantic comedies of the 1940s--lots of music and wit--but with an '80s edge that at times seems to cut the viewer unfairly.

But even though the conclusion synthesizes the two styles incompletely, leaving the moviegoer wondering if something important was inadvertently left on the cutting room floor, Baker Boys still fits snugly into the escapist tradition of Tinseltown. The artistic commentary and other "Deep Inner Meanings" are introduced far too late to be developed well enough to tug at the viewer's mind.

Jeff and Beau Bridges play Jack and Frank Baker--brothers who make their living in a two-piano nightclub act. Frank spits out the typical lounge-lizard vapid-speak which is endemic to "fill-the-tables/move-the-liquor" -type establishments. Jack, the younger, hipper and better-looking of the two, steadfastly suffers through the schmaltz for 31 years.

Times and tastes change in 31 years, though. The fabulous Baker boys can't pack 'em in like they used to once upon a time and, facing the possibility of having to take (Quel horreur!) day jobs, they decide to hire a singer.

More horrors await. An almost endless train of tuneless trollops traipses by, each one hoping for a taste of fleeting fame on the fleabag cocktail club circuit. Frank moans, "37 singers and not one who could carry a tune. There was a certain surreal quality to it."

All hope, however, is not lost. In true Hollywood fashion, the heroine enters to save the day. Michelle Pfeiffer stumbles in, three hours late, with broken shoes and a mouthful of chewing gum. She is Suzie Diamond, an entrancing former employee of the Triple A Escort Service. Tired of being the glittering wrist ornament of shoe vendors and lug-wrench magnates, Suzie hopes a nightclub microphone can lead her to a better life.

Her voice is phenomenal, her stage presence at once imposing and inviting. Pfeiffer gives to Suzie Diamond such a joyous, sultry energy that all who listen feel the spirit of the music surround and lift them. They actually believe and wish all those old torch songs to be true. Suzie's version of "Machine' Whoopee" on top of Jack's piano is straight out of Hollywood history and perfectly executed.

But even though Fabulous Baker Boys is filled with familiar movie techniques and traditions, writer-director Stephen Klores does not overplay those old standbys. Jack and Suzie move through their "we're going to ignore each other even though we're madly in love" scene with style and grace. Jack and Frank play the bickering brothers to a tee, and they even manage to get into a not-half-bad food fight in their hotel room. (They call a cease-fire when Jack picks up a whole pineapple and warns his brother, "Don't tempt me." Talk about deterrance.)

Klores avoids putting the two brothers into direct conflict over Diamond by making Frank happily married with children. The movie instead focuses on a battle for Jack's soul. On one side is Suzie, representing a passionate love of jazz, the extreme, the bold and the dangerous. On the other is Frank--safe, married, dependable, boring.

Much too late the film touches on Jack's desire for the extreme, his love for jazz's fire and passion. At the end we are unsatisfied with the resolution of Jack's (and Suzie's) hope for sublimity while living in the world of the mundane.

But this is a minor complaint. Take two hours with the Fabulous Baker Boys and a big box of popcorn, and forget about real life for a while.