ROVIN' AND RAVIN' WITH MIKE
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How
the Grinch Stole Christmas
Jim
Carrey
Jeffrey
Tambor
Christine
Baranski
Molly
Shannon
Anthony
Hopkins
Josh
Ryan Evans
Jeremy
Howard
Frankie
Ray
Narrated
by Anthony Hopkins
Directed
by Ron Howard
Writing
credits Dr. Seuss (book) and Jeffrey Price
Rated
PG for some crude humor
This
new look at How the Grinch Stole Christmas could just as well have been titled How Jim Carrey Steals a Movie. And, from
the sound of things in the theater the afternoon I saw it, it seems to be about
young parents trying to steal something from their childhoods for their less
than impressed kids. Somehow, Ron Howard has turned Dr. Seuss's tale of the
meaning of Christmas beneath the tinsel of commercialism into a heavy-handed
psycho-drama about an ugly duckling who grows up to be a green old buzzard
until--oh, well, let's not give anything away, despite the holiday spirit.
There
are two main problems here. One is also the film's main strength: its almost
invisible star, Jim Carrey. When a director can keep him on task, Jim Carrey is
very, very good (The Truman Show, which was for him what Dead Poet's
Society--also directed by Peter Weir--was for Robin Williams). When he's
very, very bad, he's Adam Sandler (Dumb and Dumber). Carrey, of course,
has had at least three films in which he has had more than one characterization
(The Mask, Man in the Moon and Me, Myself, and Irene) to keep him
busy enough for the directors to get around to making a film.
Here in
Who-ville, all the stops are out, anything goes, full speed ahead, and yes,
things end up as tiresome as a string of clichés. Maybe there just isn't enough
to Seuss's little tale to sustain enough scenery for Carrey to chew. Carrey
seems to know this. I've seen him in interviews on television in which he seems
to be playing a role. Here, he seems to be standing outside the role (especially
in the more ludicrous moments of psychobabble) to wink and send a little
telepathic message, "Hey, doncha think I'm cute here?" Ironically, the
whole enterprise ends up looking so expensive but cheesy, like a Christmas
display in a mall, that it undercuts the good Doctor's original message.
The
other main problem is the padding, the expansion of the liberal goodie-goodie
subtext that runs through even the most manic moments of Seussery. It's said
that at the end of Jean Cocteau's Beauty and the Beast (1946), when the
big old hairy Beast turns into a pretty boy (who nowadays might be dancing in
one of Madonna's chorus lines), Greta Garbo spoke up and said "Give me back
my beautiful beast."
The
beauty of the Grinch is that he is a grinch, the one and only original mean
machine. In this retelling, however, we are supposed to be lulled into believing
that it's all about his pitiful childhood. Heavens, Opie, I mean, Ron (with
forty listings in the Internet Movie DataBase)!
As an American icon yourself, treat a fellow icon with a little more respect.
Leave the unhappy childhoods to Oprah!
And
give us back our beautiful grinch!
You can
play in a virtual Seussville
online. And, you can share Frederic A. Brussat's more
favorable view of the film at Spiritual Rx, although he shares my
distaste for the songs. Oh, I didn't mention the songs, did I?
There's a reason. Keep your feet dry, your heart full of noble thoughts,
and an eye out for grinches, reformed or otherwise.
The Rovin' and Ravin' Film Reviews