A good comedy is like a child of your own--you watch it grow from its promising introduction, through the joys of youth, to the satisifying fruition of adulthood. Along the way, you can't help but smile as you cheer the movie on, fully embracing the great, nodding approval at the good, and hanging with it despite the awkward misses. The fact is, you embrace and love it--even when it veers slightly off course.
Too bad this feeling didn't arise within me as I watched Talladega Nights. I wanted to smile, to laugh, and to cheer as Will Ferrell displayed his trademark goofiness through a persona that seemed ready-made for him, but the laughs were inconsistent at best.
Talladega Nights opens with a quick montage of race car driver Ricky Bobby's life--from his momma giving birth to him in a muscle car, to his fatherless childhood, to his fast rise to the top of NASCAR. During these scenes, Ferrell had his full-"Bubba" on, and things looked promising, but something turned soured when we met the family.
The two comedic tenants of this film--Ricky's confusion about Jesus, and his desire to have Him as just the "Baby Jesus," and his bad-mouthing kids--were the two things I disliked most about Talladega Nights.
The more Ferrell and the cast conjured up comedic images of Jesus, the less comfortable I became. And for me, one of the least funny things to see on screen are foul-talking young children. Particularly disturbing was the way these characters talked to their grandfather--I know it was to show how white-trash the family was, and I know the kids were forced to clean-up their act in the end, but to me, it just wasn't funny--it was sad. The movie continually goes back to these two wells for laughs--the simpleton characterizations of Jesus and the nasty kids--but these just weren't funny bits for me.
But more than that, there didn't seem to be any heart or 
charm in Ricky Bobby--yes, he was goofy and simple and silly, but he wasn't lovable or endearing. Sure, he said some off-the-wall things at times--and the surprise of these lines would make you laugh, but not so much as some of Ferrell's past characters. In fact, Ferrell seemed to be sleep-walking through the part just a little.
In contrast, his assistant played by Amy Adams, was able to ignite the screen with charisma and energy whenever they managed to give her some lines--but few were the opportunities for Ferrell to showcase similar charm or gusto. Granted, Ricky Bobby was depressed throughout the middle of the film, but Ferrrell's character in 2004's Anchorman followed a similar path, and still managed to be funny. Anchorman also had a funnier ensemble, who set up the funny so that Ferrell could score.
But in Talladega Nights, Ferrell's comedic help (John C. Reilly, Gary Cole, Molly Shannon, and Leslie Bibb) wasn't given enough to do. Reilly was wonderful as Ricky Bobby's loyal-dolt buddy, but his was largely a humorless role. Gary Cole was marvelous as Ferrell's absentee-father who turned up present when Ricky finally needed him. Shannon had some laughs, but was only in a few scenes, and Bibb, as Ricky's "smoking hot wife" was very good, but she was just a one-dimensional character, in the end. She should have been given more to do.
Sacha Baron Cohen was amusing as Ricky Bobby's nemesis Jean Girard, but he wasn't funny enough to truly enjoy or sinister enough to sneer. And Ricky's underhanded owner (played by Greg Germann) wasn't sufficiently despicable nor was he much of a comic foil, especially when one was needed.
I've been reading a great deal about how much of a comedic surprise John C. Reilly is here, and he deserves the accolades, but one untapped comedian I saw here is Michael Clarke Duncan--who gave a few glimmers that he could be really funny, but was mostly asked to play it straight.
The pacing of Talladega Nights also seemed a bit off, and many of the scenes seemed to be unfinished bits, in search of a plot. I sat restlessly through the movie--hoping that it would hit it's mark. It would have benefitted most by spreading the laughs around to the full ensemble instead of relying on Will Ferrell for everything. In the end, Talladega Nights lacked the heart of a champion. Grade: C
*For Will Ferrrell at his best, see: Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy, Zoolander, and Elf.
**In case you've ever wondered where little kids pick up adult phrases and concepts, go to a PG-13 movie some weekend. In lieu of a babysitter, irresponsible parents take mere children to these films. To these parents, your lack of concern for your child's mind and heart affects my children, who hear your kids introduce subjects which were picked up at movies like these. Thanks.
A much better Southern sports movie was Tin Cup. Note the lazy flow, advancing plot, solid supporting characters who are given their due... and a little romance.
Or for a stupid sports movie, look at Happy Gilmore--again, much better than Talladega Nights.
Posted by: johnvano | August 14, 2006 at 09:10 AM
ok ok... you do have many good points here (especially your side note at the end). I still laughed at the pure stupidity of it all.
Posted by: luann | August 14, 2006 at 01:06 PM