The battle for the human heart has officially morphed from witty, sophisticated banter between star-crossed lovers to something akin to mixed martial arts. Or, in the case of the new Ashton Kutcher/Cameron Diaz romcom What Happens in Vegas…, dull marital artifice. In this cloying, created-by-committee exercise in screaming and facial mugging, personal humanity is reduced down to a few of the seven deadly sins – particularly greed, sloth, and... no wait, that’s about it. As a result, we witness gender dynamics as primitive pandering.
After being dumped by her stiff-collared fiancé, efficient New York securities trader Joy McNally (Diaz) gets talked into a trip to Las Vegas by her best friend, slutty bartender Tipper (Lake Bell). A mix-up at the front desk finds recently fired furniture builder Jack Fuller (Kutcher) and his shyster slacker pal Hater (Rob Corddry) sharing the same room. A night of drunken debauchery finds Joy and Jack married. As they discuss divorce, the random pull of a slot machine sees the pair win $3 million. When they take the matter to court, a defiant judge (Dennis Miller) orders them to actually live as husband and wife for six months. If they survive, they’ll split the money. But if one fails, it will be an unexpected windfall for the other.
Wrapping 197 plots into a single, sloppy narrative, What Happens in Vegas… is a decent romance rigged to a hideously unfunny comedy. Bouncing wildly between farce and calculated coupling insights, our characters exist in a world where men are pigs, women are manipulative shrews, and somewhere in between exist a sprinkling of skanks, dipsticks, and sexually inappropriate bosses. The script contains so many flaws that you wonder what is holding it all together. It clearly isn’t the pedestrian, music-montage-heavy direction from Tom Vaughn.
No, the only reason this entire project doesn’t supernova and start sucking the life out of the universe like a cinematic black hole is the leads. Cameron Diaz needs to break out of these mixed-up, part-ditz/part-determined cutesy career gal roles. At 36, she can only push the enviable eye candy bit so far. Kutcher, on the other hand is like box-office body odour. Look over his resume from the last few years and the aroma of failure is pungent. Yet thanks to his quasi-chemistry with Diaz, and a few moments where the written mechanics give way to improvised genuineness, he scoots along unscathed.
What Happens in Vegas… is a date movie for those who really don’t see their relationship going anywhere. It is the equivalent of a tween’s school notepad, cover adorned with quixotic designs and heart-dotted lettering and lacking even an ounce of intelligence or insight. You can literally see the cast – including completely underserved supporting players like Treat Williams (as Jack’s father), Queen Latifah (as the couple’s court-ordered marriage counsellor), and comedian Zach Galifianakis – desperate to overcome the whisper-thin material,.
The result is a movie that mocks everything love is founded on before coming full circle to embrace each and every clichéic formula. It also strives to ply personality, not obvious gags, for laughs, and only ends up proving the failure of caricature. Somewhere buried in this staid, stereotypical excuse for a likeable lover’s spat is a decent idea for a movie. Since all involved can’t find it, it’s up to the audience to. They’ll be lost as well.
Bill Gibson
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