Screen Scene: “MacGruber”
By Teresa Jue
May 20, 2010 9:01 p.m.
Like its main character, “MacGruber” is a petty, idiotic movie, with a vindictive predilection for throat ripping and self-inflicted sexual humiliation.
However, it is that exact self-aware idiocy that makes the film work ““ complete with brilliantly satirized elements of the ’80s macho action films of Steven Seagal and Sylvester Stallone and, of course, the television series “MacGyver.”
Director Jorma Taccone, part of the troika that is The Lonely Island, managed to make an 84-minute movie based on the “Saturday Night Live” skit of the same name, where everyone and everything ends up exploding in the inept hands of Will Forte’s MacGruber. And like an “SNL” skit, the movie vacillates in and out of extremely funny moments to moments of trying too hard to produce a laugh. But laughs they produce, as MacGruber restarts the “SNL” movie franchise, after a couple of flops and duds (“Coneheads,” anyone?).
In the film version of “MacGruber,” the mullet-haired, khaki vest-wearing bomb defuser goes head-to-head with the archnemesis who killed his wife, Dieter von Cunth, played by an inexplicably shiny-faced Val Kilmer, who is intent on blowing up Washington with a nuclear warhead. MacGruber teams up with love interest Vicki St. Elmo (Kristen Wiig), who is also immersed in the ’80s, and Lt. Dixon Piper (Ryan Phillippe).
What ensues can be described as an introspective of the character of MacGruber, whose egotism is as prominent as his hair and whose vulnerability is as flashy as his red Miata, as he showcases his weakness when carrying around his Blaupunkt car stereo as a pacifier-like comfort. And in the vein of the skits, explosions serve as a huge motif in the film, where MacGruber’s fumbling paws eventually blow things up both accidentally and intentionally.
The jokes are many and crude, often relying on MacGruber’s tendency to shed his pants and on the wordplay of Dieter von Cunth’s last name. The mere inclusion of Kilmer alone in the film is a guffaw-worthy moment, despite limited screen presence and a scant villainous-sounding line here and there.
Forte plays the simultaneously impulsive, deplorable and downright incompetent MacGruber to a tee, utilizing his malleable face to elicit overwrought grief and arousal. For instance, there is a sex scene that plays upon the jazzy sensuousness of ’80s eroticism, which culminates in a straining Forte grunting wildly like a sex-starved yeti in heat. There’s also a scene that involves him dropping trousers and a stick of celery which would excite butt enthusiastsall around.
Vicki serves as a nervous complement to the ridiculousness of MacGruber, and as in numerous “SNL” skits, Wiig carries the film through with astute awkwardness, from singing her lines to cross-dressing at the behest of MacGruber. However, Phillippe’s role as the straight man in the cast of crazies does nothing but provide a chiseled mug to the movie poster.
The film’s hyperbolic nature becomes too much at times. It’s as if the writers were clambering to cram as many phallic jokes as they could fit into one scene. Likewise, it seems the movie relies on Forte’s bare buttocks to carry not just a stick of celery, but much of the humor throughout the movie. The best scenes are the ones of a parodic nature, like when a cougar’s growl can be heard at the end of each explosion and when MacGruber channels the inane innovations of MacGyver.
“MacGruber” is more filthy than satirical, which could have been balanced out a tad more. Nevertheless, the film’s unapologetic vulgarity combined with throwbacks to the steroid-inundated ’80s films provides one with a sense of satiric satisfaction. And thanks to the film, I’ll never see a stick of celery in quite the same way again.
E-mail Jue at [email protected].
