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Review: TROPIC THUNDER / Ben Stiller (2008)

August 13th, 2008 by Scott Marks

Brandon T. Jackson, Ben Stiller & Robert Downey, Jr

Brandon T. Jackson, Ben Stiller & Robert Downey, Jr

Tropic Thunder (2008)
Written by: Ben Stiller, Justin Theroux & Etan Cohen
Starring: Ben Stiller, Robert Downey, Jr., Jack Black, Brandon T. Jackson, Nick Nolte, Tom Cruise, Matthew McConnaughey & Steve Coogan
Running Time: 107 min.
Aspect Ratio:

Rating: ☆☆☆☆☆

A trio of narcissistic actors (Ben Stiller, Robert Downey, Jr., Jack Black) are hired to star in the biggest war movie ever made. Five days into filming and the blockbuster is already one month behind schedule. With the studio threatening to halt production, the director (Steve Coogan) decides to shoot it guerrilla-style and before long his cast is thrown into actual combat.

This weekend I popped in What Did You Do in the War, Daddy?, Blake Edwards’ boisterous service comedy that left a mortar shell at the box office, and couldn’t help wondering what the Master would have done with this material. There are star cameos, in-jokes galore, complex lighting set-ups (John Toll, Terrence Malick’s last d.p., shot it) and plenty of physical pain inflicted on characters, a trademark of Edwards’ finest comedies. Ted Wass notwithstanding, Edwards seldom heaped pain on his audience. Tropic Thunder is a torture chamber.

Reality Bites? The Cable Guy? Zoolander?Who handed Ben Stiller a budget to direct another feature? Oh, yeah. DreamWorks. Stiller’s performance range is neatly compartmentalized: there are nerds (Along Came Polly, Duplex, The Heartbreak Kid, Focker) and narcissists (Mystery Men, Starsky and Hutch, Dodgeball). As a director, he has become the annoying equivalent of Jim Carrey’s contorted face constantly interrupting the purposely placid fish-eye compositions in The Cable Guy. As Tugg Speedman, Stiller tries his best to shave the ham, while behind the camera he serves up platters of gristle.

The faux trailers that open the film make Robert Rodriguez’s work on Grind House look like SCTV and set the tone for 107 mins. worth of sophomoric lampooning. The controversies that surround the film are far more fascinating than the film itself. In March, Emulsion Compulsion reported that Caucasian actor Robert Downey, Jr. burnt some cork in order to play an African American character. The story, planted by studio rumor mills eager to spark word-of-mouth, caught my eye. I’ll see anything with Robert Downey, Jr. He’s one of our finest contemporary actors; on par with Johnny Depp. Can you believe that Downey and Depp have never worked together? It seems like such a logical pairing. Then again, if they should unite on screen, Jon Avnet would probably be hired to direct.

Playing an actor that “doesn’t drop character until the DVD commentary,” Downey never come close to embarrassing himself. He never has. As golden boy Kirk Lazarus, Downey isn’t playing a black man, but a self-absorbed Aussie movie star playing a black guy and that includes an at times “Uncle Tommish” vocal impersonation. Downey is allowed to get away with certain stereotypes because Brandon T. Jackson works opposite him in the Robin Quivers role. That’s more than I can say for Tom Cruise.

Before Monday’s screening of Henry Poole, several critics (save Duncan Sheperd who sat laughing to himself in the top row of stadium seats) were gushing over Cruise’s Jew-turn. Beneath a fat suit and bald cap, Tom transforms into the Scientological Phil Silvers, give or take a few rows of stubble. Apart from the ultra-orthodox sounding name “Les Grossman,” Cruise makes sure not to step on any Yiddish toes. He spouts a lot of “f-cks” while flapping his arms, but the satire is obvious and has been done before by better. (Rick Moranis as “Larry Siegel.” I rest my case.)

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