‘Dumberer’ lives up to its name

I was at my manager trainee job trying to master the phrase “Want

fries with that?” and this call comes in. It’s from my editor,

spewing the words “Dumb and Dumberer.”

So there I sat, Saturday afternoon among a horde of 10- to

14-year-olds, my emotional equals, but my intellectual superiors,

trying in my limited way to figure out how overt stupidity (1994’s

“Dumb and Dumber”) could begat even more overt stupidity, this week’s

“Dumb and Dumberer.”

Those of us who splash around in the shallow end of the IQ pool

really need to be cautious of intelligence-lowering drivel like “Dumb

and Dumberer.” We haven’t got too many IQ points left to lose.

The dipstick Castor and Pollux twins of Eric Christian Olsen and

Derek Richardson flatulate their way across the silver screen in a

flick that makes “Dude, Where’s My Car” seem like an Orson Welles

masterpiece.

But they don’t pay me the big bucks here at the Pilot to review

masterpieces. Nope, if it’s dumb, call Don.

In “Dumb and Dumberer,” we go back to the past to visit the

cherished moment when Harry and Lloyd meet each other. Like anyone

really cares.

Blowing off several hours of my life, a half day’s pay (seven

bucks for a matinee? What happened to $3.50?), and being more

embarrassed to be seen in a theater since being forced to review the

Spice Girls movie, I cringed as laughter from the teens around me

just reinforced the reality that there’s no hope for that generation.

Anyhow, Lloyd (Olsen) is a home-schooled loser with an imaginary

friend, and Harry (Richardson) is a public-schooled loser with

imaginary intelligence. Running into each other on a street corner,

leaves part of Harry’s tooth embedded in Lloyd’s forehead,

remaindering them as buddies for life, or at least the life of the

film.

It’s the longest 82 minutes I’ve ever suffered through, except for

the first, last, and middle 82 minutes of “The Postman.” Yeah, yeah,

yeah, I know “The Postman” was only 178 minutes, it just seemed

longer, and after viewing “Dumb and Dumberer,” well, my math ain’t so

good.

Lloyd, in his Velour pullover sweaters with animals embroidered on

them, and Harry, in his day-glo Buck Rogers jackets bright enough to

bring sight to Ray Charles, are truly dumb and dumberer. I doubt the

two of them could collectively count to three if you spotted them the

one and the two.

So, Harry is gonna show Lloyd the ropes in high school. After the

usual assortment of beatings and abuse by some Brylcreemed bullies,

our pals, along with a passel of their brain-dead brethren, are

assigned to a “special needs” class. What they specially need is a

lobotomy, but then there’s really nothing to lobotomize, and who’d

wanna waste the needle.

This special needs class is actually a scam by the school’s

principal in his $5 coat, $2 tie, and 50-cent haircut -- and his

squeaky voiced kinda-chunky lunch lady turned secretary turned

girlfriend -- to rip off a $100,000 award being giving for having a

special needs class.

These two Mensa rejects are gonna grab the green, along with all

the other cash they’ve swiped, and go snag some property in Waikiki.

There are a couple problems. One hundred large ain’t gonna cut it in

Waikiki, and only those dumb and dumber would want to live in that

hovel. I’d rather be in a trailer on Harbor Boulevard (a future

dream) than that tourist pit.

Sho ‘nuff, the scam is exposed by the perky high school newspaper

reporter. They didn’t make reporters like that when I was a high

school senior. (Of course, I was 35 at the time). The bad guys are

arrested, the money is saved. Harry and Lloyd ... they continue to

become dumb and dumberer. You and me, the viewers, we remain dumb and

dumberer. Duuuh.

* UNCLE DON’S REVIEWS OF NIL REPUTE run sporadically. E-mail him

at [email protected].

‘Hollywood Homicide’ is predictable comedy

Mildly amusing and slightly goofy, “Hollywood Homicide” is the

latest in the long line of cop/buddy pictures cranked out by the

movie factories every year. This time out, Harrison Ford is Gavilan,

the grizzled old cop, and Josh Hartnett is Calden, his young

idealistic partner.

The movie opens with the murder of four rappers during a concert

at a local nightclub. The two cops are assigned to the case, and the

usual mix of violence and comedy inherent in these films begins.

There are a few sharp twists: Gavilan is also a real estate agent

having an affair with a radio talk show psychic. Calden teaches yoga

and takes acting lessons on the side.

There is a parade of oddball characters and cameo appearances by

Martin Landau, Lou Diamond Phillips, Gladys Knight and others. These

sideshows provide several good laughs and some snappy dialogue to

keep things interesting. But rest assured, the plot follows the old

screenplay formula so closely that you know what’s going to happen

long before it appears on the screen.

Of course, the cop buddies bend the rules just enough to get in

trouble with the brass, but not enough to get fired. Internal Affairs

officers hound our heroes and get in the way as they try to solve the

crime. The nasty villains target our heroes with the help of a

crooked cop. The mandatory car chases and foot pursuits appear on

schedule. No situation is too violent or dangerous to prevent our

heroes from cracking jokes in the face of imminent death.

Sound familiar? It should, because it’s all been done a hundred

times before. All the actors seem to be playing strictly for laughs,

and none of them are taking the underlying murder plot too seriously.

Neither will you. But you might find a few chuckles amid the fluff.

* JOHN DEPKO is a Costa Mesa resident and a senior investigator

for the Orange County public defender’s office.