by erin thursby scopes1925@msn.com
C+ 87 min PG-13
The name of the movie is Mr. Woodcock and the poster depicts a gym coach holding a pair of basketballs in front of his crotch. Would it be a surprise if I said that the movie was rife with ball and stick jokes? And, of course, what comedy would be complete without the requisite whack to the cojones? Not this one certainly.
I’ll say one thing about the movie (ok, two things), it is precisely what it’s advertised to be, and not all of the funny parts were mercilessly laid bare in the previews. The plot is so predictable that I could have spent the entire movie playing Tetris on my cell phone, and I still would have been able to cobble together a review. (A little etiquette tip- always turn the volume off when playing Tetris during a movie). But, as with many comedies, it’s not the plot points that make it great, but the one-liners and the physical comedy. People won’t be talking about the plot; they’ll be talking about what’s funny.
But heck, if you’re reading this review you’re probably in it for the plot synopsis right? Ok. Chubby kid John Farley gets tormented by his mean, mean gym teacher Mr. Woodcock, leading him to lose weight as an adult and write a runaway bestselling self-help book. He comes back to his small town to receive a remarkably phallic key to the city, only to discover that his mom, Beverly Farley, played by the ever-hot Susan Sarandon, is now boinking, er, dating the cruel Mr. Woodcock (Billy Bob Thornton). If you’ve been following Thornton’s career, it won’t come as a surprise that he’s revisiting the role of a stoically sadistic dick, hence the name Mr. Woodcock.
Speaking of dicks, the movie seems to be one giant phallic symbol. Just counting the penis references will leave you dizzy, if you, like me, have a sufficiently dirty mind to catch them.
John Farley (Seann William Scott) even has an almost Freudian attachment to his mother. He and Mr. Woodcock get into what is essentially a giant pissing contest, ending with John Farley doing a kind of baboon victory dance. The humor does work, mostly, but there are scenes that are excruciatingly painful to watch.
Farley’s agent, Maggie (Amy Poehler), was perhaps my favorite part of the movie. Unfortunately, I’ve heard most of her best lines in the preview trailers, which ran for an insane amount of time because the release date got pushed back. Her lines have great pizzazz in delivery, but, like most chewing gums, they tend to lose their flavor when over-chewed.
At one point in the movie, Farley accidentally gets a small portion of his head shaved, so he’s got a bald patch in the back. He looks perfectly normal from the side, front and most angles. Just when you’ve forgotten about it—BAM—they show a shot of him from behind. They milk the joke until the cow runs dry, and it’s timed perfectly so the joke never quite wears out (though I’m sure that cow was in pain towards the end) and it’s freshly funny.
There’s a well timed bit of dialogue in the flick that should be called “50 ways to screw your mother,” in which Farley’s friends at the pizza parlor find new and exciting ways to say “Dude! Woodcock’s doing your mother!”
Have I mentioned that this isn’t a family film? It somehow received a PG-13 rating, because no one actually says the dreaded F-Word and Susan Sarandon never flashes her tits.
Did I say tits? Boobies, I meant. This movie was a bad influence on me.
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EU Critic’s Choice Awards
