There
are two movies at war with each other in “The In-Laws,” a
mixed bag of a comedy that bewilders more than it bemuses.
The first movie is a pretty straightforward buddy comedy. There
is the straight man, played expertly by Albert Brooks, and the
comic relief, played surprisingly well by Michael Douglas. They
are thrown into strange situations together where, almost without
fail, Brooks gets nervous and Douglas goes over the top. And the
two of them, together, are hilarious polar opposites.
This is cinema’s most popular modern approach to comedy.
Just think about some of the recent comedies to tour the country. “Anger
Management” had the nervous businessman and the eccentric
anger management specialist. “Analyze This” and “Analyze
That” featured the reserved psychiatrist and the hot-blooded
mafia goon.
But then, as is so often the case with popular movies, a contrived
and, honestly, unbelievable story gets in the way. The second movie
vying for attention in “The In-Laws” is a spy story,
where Douglas serves as an undercover CIA operative, carrying out
dangerous operations and flying to various countries without anyone
in his life aware of his true identity.
The two opposites – the shy Brooks and the crazy Douglas – meet
due to a wedding. Douglas’ son is marrying Albert’s
daughter, and after Brooks mistakenly stumbles upon Douglas in
action, they must flee a crime scene together. Along the way, they
must parachute off a building, use a jet ski to divert a torpedo
fired from a submarine and must distract the attention of a sexually
ambiguous arms dealer.
Several of these sequences do connect and are very funny. One
of my favorites involves the last item mentioned in the previous
paragraph. Brooks, using the identity of a respected and famous
arms trader, must accept the flirtations of another male arms dealer
while Douglas carries out his mission in the background. I must
admit, I chuckled.
The success of such scenes is due solely to the acting. Based
on the original 1979 movie, which I admit I have never seen, the
writing in this film is simply awful. It is one thing to create
an unlikely scenario, sprinkle in some comedic lines and double
takes, and send everyone away with a good laugh. In 2003’s “In-Laws,” many
scenes are so far-fetched that their absurdity, in some instances,
cannot be overcome. We are simply dumbstruck at how preposterous
this whole episode is.
No, when it works, it is not due to a clever team of writers.
The greatest strength of this film is its acting. Douglas, in
a role than seems like a far departure from his previous work,
hams
it up. He uses exaggerated expressions and gets caught up in
the melodrama. And Brooks genuinely seems like the nice guy next
door
who has inadvertently stepped onto a wild ride. He plays the
straight man perfectly and snaps back at Douglas just as we’d
expect an innocent by standard to react to the craziness that fills
this
film.
So why then does “The In-Laws” divert attention away
from its star players? Why, in a comedy, is there such an extended
subplot involving international arms dealers, the FBI, the CIA
and a rogue nuclear submarine?
The answer is a simple one: The filmmakers did not have enough
material. Many comedies simply do not have enough to keep the
story going on purely comedic grounds, and they soon digress into
scenes
of drama or tension to establish an artificial sense of momentum.
If they can’t make the audience laugh, it seems, then a
car chase will fill the void nicely.
There is an unexpected consequence to this formula. When attention
is stolen away from the comedy, away from this fake world of exaggerations
and silliness, and instead diverted to a story of guns and death
threats, the bubble of comedy bursts. In these moments, as a character
has a gun put against his head, “The In-Laws” starts
to take itself seriously. And as soon as that happens, it falls
flat on its face.
Something is to be admired about an Adam Sandler comedy. While
it’s stupid, it knows its place. A film like “The In-Laws” refuses
to decide between silliness and seriousness, and suffers from this
indecision. The audience is never sure how to take it and, while
they may laugh, no one will ever invest into the story.