Dickie Roberts,
Former Child Star
There
comes a time in every actor's life when he has to shift gears
and change his image. Otherwise, in today's celebrity-obsessed
culture, he could end up on any one of cable's dozen shows
devoted to the rise and hard fall of showbiz has-beens. One
such subject, Leif Garrett, knows exactly what that's like,
with a Behind The Music special so over-the-top tragic
that it has become a paragon of the form.
So Garrett's
performance should lend more heft or bite to David Spade's
latest movie, Dickie Roberts, Former Child Star. But
unfortunately, all the has-beens and perhaps never-wases get
trotted out for quick laughs while the film revolves around
an actor really trying to reinvent himself.
As a
result, we've really got two films here. One is a dark and
biting satire of those standing in the shadows of Hollywood's
light, barred from a party they once hosted. The sequences
there show some real promise, especially at a poker night
with a group of "Where Are They Now?" regulars, complaining
about the pretty boys who get all the work while ex-Greg Brady
Barry Williams bets with replicas of the cursed tiki idol
rather than real money.
Contrasting
that sharpness, Spade and writing partner Fred Wolf have concocted
what they hoped would be a heart-warming comedy about a man
learning to connect with humanity. It's not a bad idea, necessarily,
no worse than the drama in which Dickie Roberts is desperately
trying to win the lead role - a Rob Reiner film called Mr.
Baker's Backyard.
But just
as Dickie's background as a child star has left him woefully
unprepared to assay a real human being, so does Spade's snarky
persona distance him from the role of Dickie. The script
has no choice but to spell out all Dickie's dilemmas, because
Spade cannot portray them.
When
a heart-broken Dickie confesses "…I wear gloves twenty-four
hours a day because I'm afraid of human contact," it's hollow.
Conversely, he claims to not be able to look people in the
eye because others might see there's nothing behind his own
eyes. Sorry, but it's a lie. Spade always has something going
on behind his eyes, usually preparing to deliver some zinger.
It's
not that he's not funny, either. In small doses, such as the
early years of Just Shoot Me, Spade stole the show
by refusing to take it over. He's older now, and like Dickie,
trying to transition into a phase with a little more longevity.
Neither
Spade, Wolf, nor director Sam Weisman know how to carry on
a narrative, though. All they know are short bits.
After
a pretty amusing opening, the movie settles into a rhythm
that barely remembers it has a plot. Midway through, Grace
(Mary McCormack) exposes the flaw in the movie by telling
Dickie he has no plan. He's just attacking the whole "reliving
childhood" thing with random jabs. Hmm…just like a series
of sketches with the same character, perhaps?
Subplots
don't so much occur as just pop back up after you've forgotten
about them. As Dickie's surrogate dad, Craig Bierko is reduced
to mugging shamelessly to make the most of a thankless role;
every time he affects the plot, it's in a story being told
about him rather than featuring him. Former child star Alyssa
Milano also weaves in and out, in a bit that makes no sense
on more than one level. That's an achievement of some sort.
Giving
the midsection some sort of weight, McCormack plays her role
of "second mom" with a believable earnestness. She clearly
loves her children, and for someone with movie star looks,
she manages to have a parental bedraggledness. When romance
looms because it must in these kinds of films, it's the one
time that Weisman's off-camera developing of plot is a blessing.
It would be too jarring to actually show McCormack have anything
other than motherly affection for the manchild in her house.
For me,
the worst sin this movie commits is to actually lift an internet
joke/urban legend involving a neighbor's pet rabbit and turning
it into the moment that everybody finally bonds. It wasn't
really that funny the first five times somebody sent it to
me.
Most
of the film is diverting enough. Though it doesn't flow, there
are fits and starts of laughs. At the end, it circles back
around to being biting, which almost raises it a notch. The
two different styles just don't mesh. And though this is nowhere
near as bad as Joe Dirt or Spade's films with Farley,
it's still not the movie that will give the comic the mainstream
acceptance he so obviously wants.
Rating:
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