Today's college student may be unfamiliar with Archie Manning. But if your father is anything like mine, then you probably grew up listening to recollections of the quarterback's star-crossed career with the New Orleans Saints. Watching "The Whole Nine Yards", the newest film from director Jonathan Lynn ("My Cousin Vinny"), reminded me once again of the struggles of Peyton Manning's old man.
Okay, despite its gridiron title, the movie has absolutely nothing to do with the game of football, but the game itself isn't necessarily what I think of when I think of Manning; it's the futility of his labor. The elder Manning is generally considered one of the NFL's most gifted signal callers, yet he was a lone talent trapped for his entire career in an organization doomed to failure.
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The same idea continues in this film: the fruitless effort of a talented individual. Bruce Willis, foraying into perhaps the most comedic role of his film career, lives up to all expectations. I think. Actually, one can't tell if he's doing a good job or just appears to be in comparison to the other cast members.
Willis plays Jimmy "The Tulip" Tudeski, a professional hit man whose 17 murders have made him a household name in Chicago. After ratting out his boss to the tune of a life sentence, Jimmy got off with only five years. Now he's out, and, refusing the witness protection program, he's fled to suburban Canada to escape his boss's son Janni (Kevin Pollack).
Welcoming Jimmy to the neighborhood is a task that dentist "Oz" Oseransky (Matthew Perry) could have done without. Already a bit neurotic by nature, Oz is flustered by his miserable marriage, and Jimmy moving in next door is just enough to push him over the edge.
But Oz's wife Sophie (miserably attempted by Rosanna Arquette) sees Jimmy's arrival as the perfect opportunity to carry out her personal agenda. When Sophie discovers there is a price on Jimmy's head, she forces Oz to go and finger him to Janni in Chicago. She then runs to Jimmy to inform on Oz, hoping to have her husband killed. The problem is that Jimmy kind of likes Oz, and Oz kind of likes Jimmy and nobody can figure out exactly who to trust.
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While in Chicago, Oz meets Jimmy's wife Cynthia (Natasha Henstridge), and does a little more than shake her hand. After the steam has cleared, she explains to Oz that things are even more complex than he had realized.
Apparently, before Janni's father went to the slammer, he deposited $10 million in a joint account to clear it from the feds. There are three consigners on the account: Janni, Cynthia and Jimmy. None of them can withdraw the money without either the signatures or the death certificates of the remaining pair. So, both Jimmy and Janni want to kill the other two and make off with all the money, "the whole nine yards."
This isn't the first time Lynn has dealt with such absurd narrative and exaggerated characters. The 1985 film "Clue" was every bit as ridiculous, but it brimmed with wonderful character work, and one couldn't help but laugh through it. So, I went into "The Whole Nine Yards" expecting a stupid movie, which doesn't necessarily rule out the possibility of quality.
Unfortunately, the execution of this stupidity is poor. Whoever coached Pollack and Arquette on their dialects, simply put, needs to find a new occupation. Perry is mediocre at best, finding his most comical moments with personal injury.
Willis alone is a joy. He has just the right combination of fright and farce necessary for this kind of role. Okay, not to give him too much credit, he's just doing "that same Bruce Willis thing." Perhaps his performance is more a compliment to the casting director than the actor, but it's enjoyable nonetheless.
The intention of movies like this is merely to provide a little lighthearted entertainment. That's all that matters, and, in the end, this film's most regrettable flaw is it's just too low on laughs.