To preface this review, it's necessary to say that I don't usually have abysmal taste in movies. In fact, I'd like to think that I gravitate toward the good ones, appreciate the "gems" in the decent ones and stay away from the truly terrible ones.
Why, then, you might ask, did I go see Anna Faris' latest, "The House Bunny," especially when there are so many good movies, infinitely better movies, in theaters right now? Hmmm. I can't quite be sure. All I know is the line "you - need - a yob!" in the trailer somewhat sold me and inspired curiosity and hope that "The House Bunny" could surprise everyone and actually be funny.
"The House Bunny" tells the story of Shelley, a 27-year-old Playboy bunny forced to abruptly leave the mansion and find a real job. She ends up serving as the house mother for Zeta Alpha Zeta, a sorority plagued by low membership, incessant taunting from other Greek houses and the threat of losing their charter. Using her marketable skills in seduction and style, Shelley is able to make over both the girls and their reputation on campus, while learning a thing or two from these intelligent, albeit misguided, Zetas, who include but are not limited to a mute (who, when she does speak, turns out to have a really terrible British accent), a pregnant girl and a girl in a full-body metal brace.
The movie appeared to have some real, if goofy, comedic promise, due, most likely, to some clever trailer editing and a cast of fresh faces, including Kat Denning, Rumor Willis and Emma Stone from "Superbad." Colin Hanks of "Orange County" fame and Christopher McDonald (the infamous villain Shooter McGavin in "Happy Gilmore") even come out of the woodwork for this one, and the cast of the reality show "Girls Next Door" and Hugh Hefner make several, semi-awkward appearances.
Yet, the host of young stars does little to ameliorate the movie's one central problem; the script just isn't funny. While the movie's trailer showed some excellently timed one-liners, in the actual movie these fleeting funny moments are shrouded in poor comedic timing and an overload of unrealistic dialogue. It is unrealistic, for example, that at a car wash, a college female would respond to a joke about a wet T-shirt contest by offering "a wet pants contest" and subsequently pour water all over her crotch.
Stone, who might be the wittiest actor in the "The House Bunny," ruins some of her would-be big laughs with excessive babbling that not only makes you embarrassed for her, but also for yourself for being there. Faris gives her role as the dim but lovable Shelley the "old college try," and while some of her lines were surprising, most of them, sadly, followed the tired, slapstick, so-stupid-it-might-be-funny mantra.
By the end of the movie I was mentally exhausted, cursing my poor choice and dying to get out of the theater. And as our movie got out next to the similarly timed "Pineapple Express" showing, whose audience members were basking in the glow of seeing a truly successful comedy, I couldn't help but hang my head in shame. Next time, hopefully, I will know better.
