Me, Myself and Irene
SC: I saw two comedies on the weekend of June 23. One was Chicken Run. Fabulous! The other was Me, Myself, and Irene. Terrible! Every time I think of the Farrelly's follow-up to There's Something About Mary, I get a queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach (I have the same reaction to thoughts of Scary Movie. If I think of them simultaneously, I have to pull the air sick bag from under my chair.) Though Carrey tried valiantly to up the ante on the gross-out schtick, the movie just never rose above its cheap tricks. Remember, Mary succeeded because of its pacing - in between the astounding sight gags, the Farrellys toyed with an ultrasweet romantic comedy that offered all kinds of weird nuances in Cameron Diaz' title character. Not only does Renee Zellwegger have zero personality as Irene, but the entire movie is one frenetic fart joke without even an instant of relief. And what's with the 'sticking [insert various objects here] up an ass' gags? The creators of the infamous hair gel and the Spud on speed surely can come up with something better than that.
WG: Comedic pairings don't get much more promising than Jim Carrey and the Farrelly brothers, so why do the gross-out antics in Me, Myself, and Irene feel so forced? There are admittedly a number of big laughs in this elaborate road farce (having Carrey dunk the snotty girl's head underwater was a stroke of malevolent genius), but too many of the jokes (chicken up the posterior; trying to finish off the wounded cow) either go on too long or feel like the Farrellys attempting to hurdle the ever-rising gross-out bar. As Carrey's schizophrenic state trooper hits the road with Renee Zellweger, the movie gets wrapped up in a nonsensical plot that no one can seem to fully explain to me - the screenplay was reportedly kicking around Hollywood for a decade, and it sure feels like it. It's unfortunate, because Jim Carrey ultimately gives one of his most inspired physical performances - by the time his split personalities began vying for control, we know he's hitting on all cylinders. In Me, Myself, and Irene, Carrey is an absolute whirlwind of energy. It's too bad the rest of the movie can't keep up.