Movie Review

Run, Fat Boy, Run

Ah man, this movie did not take the turns that I wished it did! Instead of taking a slightly adventurous and possibly entertaining route, it sticks to formula that an infant wouldn't drink out of its bottle. Instead, the infant would say: "Seriously? You're actually gonna see this tired story to its conclusion? I can see such things coming, and I can't even chew solid food." Basic-basic-basic romantic comedy trappings abound here like crazy. It's quite disheartening. And it's not even the feel-goodiness of it; it's the non-imagination of it all.

And there's an absolutely criminal mistake made in here: It involves the formula. See, movie logic apparently dictates that Fatboy will want his old lady back, even though she's shallow with nothing more to offer him other than being the mother of his child. She's a beautiful blank slate with no spirit. What I really wanted to happen was that Simon Pegg would hook up with his landlord's super, super hot daughter, played by India de Beaufort. This chick is smokin' like the audience at a Cypress Hill concert. It makes me wonder why they even introduced her into this flick, only to pull the rug out from under by barely putting her in it. Her only function in the story is to kick Fatboy out of his apartment so he can push a shopping cart around full of all his stuff.

In my ideal movie, Fatboy would have just said "Screw my ex-lady and her douche of a new boyfriend, I'm gonna bone this superfly Indian chick from upstairs and never look back!" And he would even have the power to do so, being the main character and all. There's even a scene where this girl is talking to him out of her window, and he's staring up in drooling-disbelief at how hot she is. And then...nothing happens between ‘em - tragic, I tell ya. It would have been so much better if he had started hooking up with her, and “then” weighed that against the issue that his ex-lady *might* want him back. Then he'd have a nice dilemma to deal with, and things could actually get messy in this tripe romantic comedy. But no, instead he has to do inspirational bullshit, a.k.a. running a marathon so he can "prove his worthiness."

Ridiculous. Feminism has really taken hold, and it’s strangled our senses. Come on, guy, all women have the same body parts and yet men gotta focus on "The One," as if they're the Neo of vaginas. It ain’t gonna save ya - stop putting this false image into people's heads that this is how you're supposed to act in a relationship. I blame David Schwimmer!

This flick is easy to watch and I did manage to get through it without even dry heaving. Super non-demanding moviegoers might "think it was cute" or some jive like that. It's like the British comedy version of 88 Minutes! I actually did laugh out loud quite a bit in the first 20 minutes, and at the last shot of the movie. I thought there was potential with the obnoxious attitude Pegg cultivates, but they never kick it into anything remotely high gear. Pegg just really isn’t that great, he's a sad sack both in his character and in his acting. He needs more rough edge; a more "screw the world and everyone else" stance that neither he nor Schwimmer has the guts to delve into. This is just another loser becomes winner because he really is the decent-guy comedy. Is that all they're prepared to deliver to us in this stage of Hollywood?

Scott's Grade: C+

A	15.1%
B	59.2%
C	24.5%
D	1.2%
F	0.0%