(What's wrong with that blonde chick? Why is she bouncing around like a gerbil on crack? Why is she laughing like a deranged hyena? And, oh dear Lord, why is that guy not running away from her?)
CAST: Cameron Diaz, Thomas Jane, Christina Applegate, Selma Blair, Jason Bateman, Parker Posey, Johnny Messner, Frank Grillo.
DIRECTOR: Roger Kumble
WARNING: SPOILERS and misguided Cameron Diaz-clowning right ahead...
Cameron. Diaz. Two words that normally make me smile a little. But after watching THE SWEETEST THING, those words make me want to reach for the Dramamine to cure myself of the marathon bouncing, flouncing, and giggling that she just subjected to me to. Except you're supposed to take Dramamine before you get sick, right? So, in other words, I'm fucked.
But back to Cameron and her abrupt switch from would-be America's-Sweetheart to Sweet-Jesus-go-home-already-lady! Ms. Diaz garnered attention by making her debut in THE MASK, when she was merely a model with hardly any acting experience. She did well in that movie, and went on to get more experience in films like A LIFE LESS ORDINARY and THE LAST SUPPER. Then she delivered a strong performance in MY BEST FRIEND'S WEDDING as the sweet, naive bride whom Julia Robert's borderline-psycho terrorizes. It's no small feat to be able to win the audience's sympathy over the true America's Sweetheart - but Diaz pulled it off. She went on to deliver good work in THERE’S SOMETHING ABOUT MARY and ANY GIVEN SUNDAY, where she combined an icy exterior with hidden depths and sold a character that could have easily been unlikable in the hands of someone else.
Then CHARLIE'S ANGELS hit, and she began her slide into "Look at me aren't-I-fabulous?" territory. The appeal that she had in comedies like THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT MARY and MY BEST FRIEND'S WEDDING were based on a modest and unassuming sweetness. Somehow, in CHARLIE'S ANGELS and, especially, THE SWEETEST THING, it was no longer modest - and much more assuming. And nothing is more of a turn-off than someone who suddenly buys into their own hype.
Diaz plays Cristina Walters, one of those chicks who has it all: (1) a fabulous job as an advertising executive (we'll just have to take Cristina at her word over this, because we never see her at work nor does she do anything to indicate she has any advertising executive skills - unless you count pimping out her girlfriends), (2) a stupendous San Francisco apartment that she surely can only afford because of her (3) two fabulous roommates/best friends, Courtney (Christina Applegate) and Jane (Selma Blair). Courtney is a ruthless divorce attorney, which we instantly believe because: (1) we first glimpse her in a sleek and formidable suit, and (2) she is played by Christina Applegate, who has the uncanny ability to blend beauty and brains seamlessly. If she tells you she's a lawyer, then she's a lawyer, goddamnit.
Jane, on the other hands, is unlucky-at-love (and sex) and works as an assistant manager at a chi-chi men's clothing store run by a guy who is: (1) gay, (2) and wears sweaters tied around his shoulders, which really (3) gives gays a bad name. He also treats like Jane like crap, so he's not going to win any GLAAD awards anytime soon.
Anyhow, back to our (dammit) heroine Cristina, whom we first hear about in a montage sequence showing all the men she's scorched. They all have the same complaints about her: (1) she lead them on, (2) she gave them a fake phone number, (3) and disappeared from their lives. Trust me, guys - you have no idea what kind of a bullet you disphits just avoided.
Which is more than we can say for Peter (Thomas Jane), the guy that Cristina meets one night while clubbing with Courtney and Jane. Initially trying to hook up Peter with Jane, Cristina finds herself drawn to him instead when: (1) Jane is practically hypnotized away by Todd (Johnny Messner), a hot but clueless party boy; (2) Peter won't put up with Cristina's crap and shows it by (3) basically calling her a pathetic game-player before turning on his heel to give her a choice view of his Chino-encased ass.
As you can imagine, this has the same effect on Cristina as dangling a London Broil steak under the nostrils of someone's who on their second week of trying to go vegan. Which means she basically runs after Peter salivating. Peter, for his part, shows a little mercy and class by apologizing for, well, I guess the telling the unvarnished truth. Which is pretty much the most sideways apology, if I ever heard one.
No matter, because all Cristina's knows is she wants this guy because he was too smart to fall for her stupid tricks. Before she can follow through on her approach, however, Peter's loony brother, Roger (Jason Bateman) swoops in and addresses Cristina in the way she deserves to be addressed - pretty much calling her a skank. Guess Pete and Rog come from a long line of quick studies.
Before Roger can perpetrate more truth-telling, Peter pushes him out the door for the second chapter of their big night. Evidently, Roger is having one huge bachelor party at The Four Seasons, and Peter invites Cristina, either to: (1) make up for his rude, but truthful, comments earlier; or (2) be laceratingly ironic. If # 2 is true (and I suspect it is), he probably groans inside when Cristina says. "Sure, I'll be there!"
Fortunately, Cristina chickens out and goes home instead - where she dreams of Peter going down on her, like, a billion times in one night. Then he serves her calorie-free ice cream and watches her lick it - before deciding to lick her nether regions again. Needless to say, it's a huge disappointment to Cristina when she wakes up from this dream - but a tremendous relief to us because, sorry, watching Thomas Jane simulate oral sex on Cameron Diaz for two hours is not something I am dying to see. Even Thomas Jane simulating oral sex on Jason Bateman is more appealing.
Anyhow, after a song-and-dance number at a Chinese restaurant extolling the virtues of large dicks (yes, really) our heroines retire to their fabulous apartment where: (1) Jane gets fucked senseless by Todd to the point where she has to take Advil, (2) Courtney berates Cristina before wussing out on hooking up with Peter, (3) and Cristina caves in to Courtney's suggestion to drive to Roger's wedding three hours away to have a second chance at his brother.
Cristina resists for about, oooh, a second before finding her skankiest outfit for their road trip. Meanwhile, Jane pretty much just rolls her eyes and goes back into the bedroom where Todd is surely still tied up to the bed with her panty hose. At least one of the three is smart enough to stay home. and do something productive.
The road trip, to put it delicately, is a fucking disaster. To wit, the following misadventures occur: (1) Cristina and Courtney gets drenched by an explosive water pipe in a slimy gas station men's room (yes, men's room), (2) Cristina discovers what looks like a maggot-ridden burrito in the back of Courtney's car (or, given what a ball-buster Courtney has turned out to be, I suppose it could be the remains of someone's penis), and (3) the girls have to make a detour into a store that sells what can only be described as clothing that looks like it was discarded from the sets of DYNASTY and THE YOUNG AND THE RESTLESS for being too tacky.
Needless to say, our heroines emerge from the store looking eerily like the rejected cover of a SOAP OPERA DIGEST issue from the early 80's - only somehow trashier. If that's even remotely possible. Still, all this is downright bearable compared to what Cristina and Courtney discover when they actually get to Roger's wedding: turns out that scamp Roger lied when he said he was the one getting married. It's actually Peter.
At this point, feel free to laugh your asses off at the revelation that Cristina-the-player just got majorly played - and by a guy who basically had her pegged from Scene One. Aghast and embarrassed, Cristina and Courtney rush back to San Francisco. During a quick gas stop where, presumably, the girls stay the hell out of the men's room this time, Cristina confesses to Courtney that she's "getting tired of the game." To which the cynical among us respond, "Right. Now you're tired of it. When someone finally gave you a dose of your own fucking medicine. Cry me a river, Blondie."
Anyhow, I wish I could tell you that THE SWEETEST THING ends with Cristina being taught a lesson and having what passes for her heart crushed underneath a San Francisco street car. But, no... Evidently, Peter suffers a massive IQ-loss, dumps his bride-to-be (Parker Posey), and hightails it to Frisco to see if he, too, can act like a person with zero self-respect. Turns out that he's not as smart as we initially thought him to be - and is more than willing to mistake true love for a hot body with a not-so-hot personality. Which leads me to suggest that they change the title to THE DUMBEST THING.
BUT, SERIOUSLY: Anyone who knows me knows I tend to favor films that are female-driven. I loved the SEX AND THE CITY series, and the SEX AND THE CITY movies (even that much-lambasted second one). BRIDGET JONES' DIARY and its sequel are two of my favorite movies. Even with male-driven pics, I always take note of how many female roles there are - and how well they are shaped and performed, and how relevant they are to the story.
So, all this by way of saying that I'm usually rooting for the women in any given movie, regardless of the genre - and that I really wanted to rate THE SWEETEST THING higher than I ultimately did.
While Christina Applegate and Selma Blair acquit themselves well (and are two of the three reasons this film merits an "average" rating), the film ultimately sags because of its lead. Cameron Diaz is no Julia Roberts, and the more she guffaws and tosses her hair and grins like a Cheshire cat, the more this is evident. As I mentioned in the intro, Diaz is a good actress and has proven that on many occasions.
Here, however, she's not so much playing a character or acting, as much as she is simply demonstrating a series of tics and mannerisms - most of them grating. But it's not all her fault: the script also doesn't give us an emotional core that we can hold on to. Yes, even a gross-out raunchy comedy needs one, and this one could've had a strong emotional hook: a seemingly confident woman who is skeptical of love and commitment but meets a guy who unexpectedly makes her rethink who she is and what she feels.
Unfortunately, this thread is fumbled, big-time, in favor of cheap laughs and trite cliches. Plus, we just don't understand what's so special about Peter that would make a player like Cristina drive three hours to essentially stalk him. Thomas Jane is certainly handsome and has talent, but his character is really quite bland. Indeed, if they would've given him more of a bad-boy edge like Roger, but tempered it with a certain softness, then maybe it would be understandable. As it is, he comes across as vanilla Mr. Right whose initial feistiness is quickly dampened when he turns "nice." If he had a little more of Roger's zaniness, he'd be much more interesting.
Speaking of Roger, the third reason this film snags a **1/2 rating instead of a lower one is because of Jason Bateman. THE SWEETEST THING came out before Bateman's career resurgence in ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT, and it's easy to see why he successfully made a comeback: the guy is hilarious. Although Roger is more of an aging frat boy who veers from Bateman's droll/dry trademark persona, the actor infuses the role with such verve and vinegar that you can't help but wish Roger had more scenes - or a bigger role. Now, if Jason Bateman would've played a revised version of Peter, and Christina Applegate would've played a revised version of Cristina, it might have truly been THE SWEETEST THING. Instead, it 's just averagely palatable.
