What has happened to critical thinking if an alarmingly slight, paper-thin, numbingly predictable, cliché-ridden movie like "In Good Company" gets glowing reviews and a collective rating of 7.1? Before I go any further, yes, I realize this comment will be spitefully rated as not "useful" because I don't agree with the majority, but I think I'll go ahead and contribute my two cents just the same.
It's mystifying what went wrong because it seems to have a lot going for it: it was made by the folks behind the excellent "About a Boy," it boasts what would seem to be a very topical, timely premise of a 26-year-old hot shot not only replacing the 50-something old pro as boss, but also secretly dating his daughter, and it stars fine young actors Scarlet Johannson and Topher Grace, and rugged, reliable Dennis Quaid.
But where "About a Boy" explored its subject matter, "In Good Company" skates over it, where "AAB" spurned clichés, "IGC" clings to them, and where "AAB" developed its characters, "IGC" stunts their growth.
You want clichés? Where do I start? Let's see how about Selma Blair as Grace's bored, bitchy wife who wants out of the marriage less than 20 minutes into the film even though her golden boy husband has just gotten a major promotion and is "being groomed"? If you're going to make the wife that two-dimensionally detestable a shamefully transparent script-writing device to make the lead more sympathetic at least make her early exit funny or interesting or memorable. But Blair isn't even granted that she just acts like a zombie in her first scene, then packs her suitcases in the second, perfunctorily delivers the news that she doesn't love him anymore in a dismally unimaginative scene, and walks out the door. A smart film would have given the wife some humanity, some hint of a reason why these two people were attracted to each other in the first place, but this isn't a smart film, and so she's unceremoniously dumped from the story, having served her ignominious purpose, never to be heard from again. (And you get the feeling that Blair the actress couldn't be more thankful)
You've got the two-dimensional, soulless corporate sleaze bag who fires people with glee, insults Quaid to his face, kisses up to the head honcho, and even recruits a ringer for the company basketball game. Gee, do you think he represents what Grace is on the road to becoming if he doesn't wise up?
There's another throwaway scene early on where Quaid's youngest daughter gets a phone call from a boy, Quaid picks up the extension and tells the boy that if he ever offers alcohol or weed to his daughter, he'll hunt him down and have him neutered.
Are there people out there who actually find this funny? That's like a bad line from some third-rate sitcom.
Later, Quaid takes it upon himself to tell two longtime coworkers that they've been fired, though it's actually Grace's responsibility. Here, I'm expecting the movie to perhaps redeem itself, to think of some inventive way or angle to approach this pivotal moment and break out of its narrative straitjacket. But no, more clichés. A grave Quaid tells them they're being let go, says he's really sorry, gets chewed out by the angry coworker who storms out, and is made to feel guilty by the other. Can you say "boring"?
And yet, the reviewer for the San Fran Chronicle gushes that the movie boasts an unusually literate script for a Hollywood film! Oh, yeah, Grace repeatedly telling Johannson how beautiful she is and her replying "thank you" is literate dialog? Or the two of them meeting for dinner and Johannson dully informing him that she has a class at 3:00? Or the obligatory restaurant confrontation scene where Quaid finds out they've been seeing each other and slugs Grace? But not before we get that golden, quotable line from Grace that has so seldom been uttered in the history of the cinema, "It's not what it looks like. Let me explain."
Earlier, the morning after being seduced by Quaid's daughter, Grace runs into Quaid and acts nervous and jumpy around him. Could have and should have been a funny moment but it isn't because it seems like Grace is winging the lines and the lines aren't funny. There are quite a few moments like this throughout the film where the tone is flip and lighthearted, and you keep waiting for a funny punch line that never comes. It's almost as if director and writer Weitz thinks that by stripping all of the best jokes out of the film, he'll be more likely to be considered a serious film maker.
And that brings me to the problem at the root of the film. Grace and Johannson. They never connect as a couple, primarily because Johannson's character is embarrassingly underwritten. There's almost less to her than there is to the movie. She's growing into her beauty, attends NYU, loves her dad but cherishes her newfound independence and is studying creative writing and that's ALL we ever get to know about her. She has no quirks, no edges, and when she breaks up with Grace, we wonder why, because there seems to be absolutely nothing else going on in her life. She seems to only exist to have Grace fall in love with her. Couldn't she do her creative writing while Grace is admiring and commenting on her great beauty and just look up every so often and say thanks?
I won't even go into the hopelessly anticlimactic ending which unfolds with all the drama of a shrug. If you're interested in seeing a good movie about the workplace, try "Patterns" or "Clockwatchers." "In Good Company" is a limp sitcom pilot masquerading as a feature film.
It's mystifying what went wrong because it seems to have a lot going for it: it was made by the folks behind the excellent "About a Boy," it boasts what would seem to be a very topical, timely premise of a 26-year-old hot shot not only replacing the 50-something old pro as boss, but also secretly dating his daughter, and it stars fine young actors Scarlet Johannson and Topher Grace, and rugged, reliable Dennis Quaid.
But where "About a Boy" explored its subject matter, "In Good Company" skates over it, where "AAB" spurned clichés, "IGC" clings to them, and where "AAB" developed its characters, "IGC" stunts their growth.
You want clichés? Where do I start? Let's see how about Selma Blair as Grace's bored, bitchy wife who wants out of the marriage less than 20 minutes into the film even though her golden boy husband has just gotten a major promotion and is "being groomed"? If you're going to make the wife that two-dimensionally detestable a shamefully transparent script-writing device to make the lead more sympathetic at least make her early exit funny or interesting or memorable. But Blair isn't even granted that she just acts like a zombie in her first scene, then packs her suitcases in the second, perfunctorily delivers the news that she doesn't love him anymore in a dismally unimaginative scene, and walks out the door. A smart film would have given the wife some humanity, some hint of a reason why these two people were attracted to each other in the first place, but this isn't a smart film, and so she's unceremoniously dumped from the story, having served her ignominious purpose, never to be heard from again. (And you get the feeling that Blair the actress couldn't be more thankful)
You've got the two-dimensional, soulless corporate sleaze bag who fires people with glee, insults Quaid to his face, kisses up to the head honcho, and even recruits a ringer for the company basketball game. Gee, do you think he represents what Grace is on the road to becoming if he doesn't wise up?
There's another throwaway scene early on where Quaid's youngest daughter gets a phone call from a boy, Quaid picks up the extension and tells the boy that if he ever offers alcohol or weed to his daughter, he'll hunt him down and have him neutered.
Are there people out there who actually find this funny? That's like a bad line from some third-rate sitcom.
Later, Quaid takes it upon himself to tell two longtime coworkers that they've been fired, though it's actually Grace's responsibility. Here, I'm expecting the movie to perhaps redeem itself, to think of some inventive way or angle to approach this pivotal moment and break out of its narrative straitjacket. But no, more clichés. A grave Quaid tells them they're being let go, says he's really sorry, gets chewed out by the angry coworker who storms out, and is made to feel guilty by the other. Can you say "boring"?
And yet, the reviewer for the San Fran Chronicle gushes that the movie boasts an unusually literate script for a Hollywood film! Oh, yeah, Grace repeatedly telling Johannson how beautiful she is and her replying "thank you" is literate dialog? Or the two of them meeting for dinner and Johannson dully informing him that she has a class at 3:00? Or the obligatory restaurant confrontation scene where Quaid finds out they've been seeing each other and slugs Grace? But not before we get that golden, quotable line from Grace that has so seldom been uttered in the history of the cinema, "It's not what it looks like. Let me explain."
Earlier, the morning after being seduced by Quaid's daughter, Grace runs into Quaid and acts nervous and jumpy around him. Could have and should have been a funny moment but it isn't because it seems like Grace is winging the lines and the lines aren't funny. There are quite a few moments like this throughout the film where the tone is flip and lighthearted, and you keep waiting for a funny punch line that never comes. It's almost as if director and writer Weitz thinks that by stripping all of the best jokes out of the film, he'll be more likely to be considered a serious film maker.
And that brings me to the problem at the root of the film. Grace and Johannson. They never connect as a couple, primarily because Johannson's character is embarrassingly underwritten. There's almost less to her than there is to the movie. She's growing into her beauty, attends NYU, loves her dad but cherishes her newfound independence and is studying creative writing and that's ALL we ever get to know about her. She has no quirks, no edges, and when she breaks up with Grace, we wonder why, because there seems to be absolutely nothing else going on in her life. She seems to only exist to have Grace fall in love with her. Couldn't she do her creative writing while Grace is admiring and commenting on her great beauty and just look up every so often and say thanks?
I won't even go into the hopelessly anticlimactic ending which unfolds with all the drama of a shrug. If you're interested in seeing a good movie about the workplace, try "Patterns" or "Clockwatchers." "In Good Company" is a limp sitcom pilot masquerading as a feature film.