Flak Magazine: Review of Shallow Hal, 11-22-01

Brimming with chuckles and well-intentioned sentimentality, Shallow Hal, the fifth picture from Peter and Bobby Farrelly, is neither a bad film nor a failed attempt. But its unevenness undermines any momentum the pair had going toward being accepted as anything more than the Howard Sterns of filmmaking.

And that's a shame, because the Farrellys have shown flashes of often-unnoticed brilliance. They have the rare ability to create a style and tone wholly and unmistakably their own, which has proven difficult to do in contemporary commercial comedy. It's not out of line to compare some of their work to Mel Brooks's films or the Zucker/Abrahams/Zucker collaborations of the '80s.

Shallow Hal doesn't merit the comparison, though. It's a little off right from the beginning. In the film's first scene, a young Hal speaks with his Dad — a priest on his deathbed — who tells him the most important thing in life is not settling for a woman with an average physique. The Farrellys have historically done very well with flashback and dream sequences; most memorable is Ben Stiller's character getting ready for the prom in There's Something About Mary. In Shallow Hal, the scene is flat, as if the premise of a priest talking vulgar about women is funny enough.

Later in life, Hal (Jack Black) meets self-esteem guru Tony Robbins and, while stuck together in an elevator, Robbins cures Hal of his predilection of judging looks over heart. From that moment on, Hal sees the world differently: Men and women's appearances become, to him, manifestations of their personalities. "Ugly" people are made "beautiful" in Hal's eyes. (Of course, this is under the assumption that inside every physically unattractive person is a beautiful person waiting to get out.) Hal falls for Rosemary (Gwyneth Paltrow), who looks to him like Gwyneth Paltrow, but who we see as Paltrow in a fat suit. Once the premise is set up, the movie plays like one continuous fat joke, wagering that since Hal is blind to it, it's somehow OK to laugh.

This kind of give-and-take has worked for the Farrellys in the past. Crude jokes and downright tasteless characterizations are offset by human kindness, sing-along alterna-pop soundtracks and breezy road sagas. But for some reason, the Farrellys, who lampoon the crippled, blind and mentally challenged with regularity and aplomb, seem defused in taking on the obese. Why? Because it hits too close to home for American audiences? Are they simply copping out? Probably a little of both.

Their last film, Me, Myself & Irene, was a box office disappointment and critical whipping boy; it also wasn't a "nice" movie like Mary was, and Mary was a financial and critical success. In the case of Irene, which targeted multiple personality disorder, perhaps critics and the public were simply ready to pounce, taking vengeance on the Farrellys for making them laugh at things they don't think they should be.

And so Shallow Hal is a return to nice. But that's not the only attribute it carries over from Mary. In designing the role of Hal, the Farrellys were apparently uninterested in giving him the kind of edge afforded to the heroes (or anti-heroes) of Dumb and Dumber, Kingpin and Irene. With Hal, they're seeking straightforward characterization, like Stiller's role in Mary. Hal is an anti-hero in the sense that he's a jerk who judges women solely for their looks, but there's never any doubt that he'll come around in the end.

As Hal, Black, in his first starring role, is simply outmatched. Nothing fits the Farrellys' devious sentimentality like Jim Carrey's unique vaudeville-cum-village idiot style. Black is more of a wisecracker than a devil-may-care comic talent like Carrey, or even Woody Harrelson, the Farrelly's lead in Kingpin. There are instances in Shallow Hal when opening his eyes real wide constitutes Black's craft. It's easy to envision another talent doing much more with the same role. He's not a bad actor, but he's not well-rounded enough to carry a Farrelly film. Stiller wasn't up to it either, but Mary had both a much funnier script and Matt Dillon to help it through.

Paltrow is decent in the role of Black's love interest. Like Cameron Diaz and Rene Zellweger before her, her character juxtaposes the baffled male by playing it straight. Acting as a character that one person sees as thin and beautiful and the rest of the world sees as obese isn't a simple task, but Paltrow is game. Jason Alexander, who alternates between a mirror of Hal and a variation of his "Seinfeld" character, is funny at times but has zero chemistry with Black.

Granted, some of the fat jokes are very funny, but then, you'd expect them to be. The Farrellys have never shied away from popularity; like the class clown, they want people to laugh because they want people to like them, meaning they have to make fun of the fat kid no matter how much they may sincerely care about her. Shallow Hal mugs a little too often for its own good. It's a concept that isn't entirely bad, and often its sweetness compensates for its indecision. It's not bad for a Hollywood comedy, but the Farrellys are capable of much better.

— Aaron Tassano (aaronaroundthecorner@yahoo.com)