Ron Burgundy (Ferrell) is the top-rated anchorman in San Diego in the '70s. When feminism marches into the newsroom in the form of ambitious newswoman Veronica Corningstone (Applegate), Ron is willing to play along at first-as long as Veronica stays in her place, covering cat fashion shows, cooking, and other "female" interests. But when Veronica refuses to settle for being eye candy and steps behind the news desk, it's more than a battle between two perfectly coiffed anchor-persons... it's war. [TRAILER]

STEVEN SNYDER'S REVIEW

Much like Bill Murray, there is something intrinsically ironic to Will Ferrell. If either man played it straight, he would be completely believable, both conveying a sense of sincerity and even authority that distinguishes them from the immature antics of an Adam Sandler or the Wayans brothers. But it is their raucous way with words, mannerisms and one-liners that defies this dignified shell. Murray is sarcastic and Ferrell is childish, and the disparity between who they appear to be and who they really are is really what makes both irresistible.

It should be no surprise then that the endlessly ironic and satiric “Anchorman” is a perfect match for Ferrell’s skill set, and stands as not only his best film to date but easily one of the funniest films this year.

Just consider the irony of the premise: Ron Burgundy (Will Ferrell) is one of those respected newscasters from the days of old, when respectable men like Walter Cronkite ruled the airwaves. But off camera, we realize that he is an idiot, wholly reliant on his teleprompter; immature in his relationships, mostly with his pet dog; childish in his behavior and in his disagreements, and still very much a teenage boy with his three TV pals who co-anchor his newscast. He’s arrogant, shallow, needy, womanizing and pathetic.

And time after time, writer and director Adam McKay, who collaborated with Ferrell both on "Saturday Night Live" and "Anchorman's" screenplay, toys with this equation. In one scene Burgundy and his estranged ex-lover and co-host Veronica Corningstone (Christina Applegate) verbally taunt each other as the credits for the nightly newscast roll, pretending to talk about the news of the day while in fact telling the other to go to hell. In some of my favorite moments, Burgundy and his boyish compadres – the hickish sports reporter Champ Kind (David Koechner), the perverted beat reporter Brian Fantana (Paul Rudd) and the mentally-hindered weatherman Brick Tamland (Steve Carell) – start a down-and-dirty parking lot brawl with the anchormen of the other news stations in town.

And to see these men in ‘70’s suits, beating each other up while remembering “not to touch the face or the hair,” we laugh at the mere gimmick. Much like the irreverent premise behind last year’s “Bad Santa,” we laugh because this just doesn’t make sense. I mean, honestly, can anyone envision Cronkite leering over women or beating up guys with the wooden leg of a piano?

But the irony in “Anchorman” is much more pervasive and encompassing, fueling everything down to Ferrell’s very presence and delivery. In a bizarre throwback to Burt Reynolds, which is a connection made clear by a series of outtakes during the credits, he toys with his approach, shifting gears between a man who is pompous, desperate, offensive, lonely, egotistical, misogynistic and melodramatic. The key here though is that through his many setups and pratfalls, he is never once the poised or respectable newsman that he should be. Something is always humorously askew.

  In this regard he is helped occasionally by a fine supporting cast, mostly by Carell as the show's retarded weatherman, best known for his appearances on "The Daily Show." But he appears in spurts, and is likely more effective because Ferrell carries the majority of the film on his own shoulders. Here in "Anchorman," we see the next big comedian finally find his footing, and McKay is willing in many moments to leave the success of a scene, and really the success of the entire movie to Ferrell's abilities in pulling off a punch line, a double take, an exaggerated gesture or even, in a few cases, a song and dance number.

  Ferrell is so utterly exposed and vulnerable that "Anchorman" could have been a painful embarrassment and a career-damaging misstep. Consequently his success demands that much more recognition and respect.

  Some have discussed the merits of the film's story, in which a bunch of dumb men try to stop a woman from advancing in their field. I do not see it so much as an affecting commentary as an exceptional plot device, helping Ferrell and gang to not only act stupid on their own accord, but also in the eyes of the opposite gender.

  "Anchorman" has the same, giddy feel of most Ferrell and Murray films because its leads never stop selling it to the viewer. We watch in awe of this man as he gets away with his childish antics and of this comedian as he runs amok through his own little universe. Whether it is Burgundy's misunderstandings or hapless interactions, the absurdist short segments that follow Burgundy through abstract cartoon worlds, impromptu barbershop quartet numbers and a sudden performance as a jazz flutist (yes, flutist), or the final showdown between troupes of anchormen that bring together a most random assortment of actors, "Anchorman" is so deft and suave at selling us on its preposterousness that we give in, and laugh at the sheer gall of it all.

Unlike most recent comedies, which use their blooper reel to make up for their lack of laughs, "Anchorman's" outtakes give us a final moment to celebrate this curious little world that we'll remember with a chuckle. We keep on watching because we're not quite ready for it all to be over.

MOVIE WEB PAGE

IMDB WEB PAGE

MOVIE REVIEW QUERY ENGINE

Showtimes

Movies @ Zertinet | Oscars @ Zertinet | Main Site
IMDB | Moviefone | Movie Review Query Engine
Contact Us | Subscribe | Unsubscribe

Best Viewed at 800 X 600 or greater
Design by David Johnson