Tropic Thunder (2008)

dir. Ben Stiller
writ. Ben Stiller, Justin Theroux & Etan Cohen, story by Stiller & Theroux
feat. Ben Stiller, Jack Black, Robert Downey Jr., Nick Nolte, Steve Coogan, Jay Baruchel...

Perhaps I'm just tired of the reign of the self-conscious comedy. Jim Carrey blew me away for a period of time and the introduction to the first Ace Ventura film still cracks me up as he beats the crap out of that package before duping its recipient upon delivery. But a boatload of very talented funnymen struggle against the many scenes in Tropic Thunder that demand you look and laugh, because clearly something funny is going on.

Stiller has been guilty of this for some time and his slipping from the public eye has been refreshing, a much needed respite from his routines grown tired (see Dodgeball). And though he plays a more likable, vaguely more complex character in Thunder, he still resorts to the long redundant gag, this time playing a mentally disabled misfit. It's a wonder that some are so slow to learn that mocking something annoying for a prolonged period will still become annoying. One runs the same risk as when making a leading character an idiot, eventually it may grow tired, the humor wearing thin, the substance transparent (see Napoleon Dynamite.)

And maybe give your supporting characters more than one or two jokes each as well. Surprisingly, the one that is most likely to be thinnest is the light of the film, as Downey blasts through his blackface, creating an inspired character, one that is challenging to follow with his machine-gun delivery and rewarding in the effort, particularly when he races through an explanation of how one can't go "full retard" if he wishes to cash in on an Academy award for a role. Kirk Lazarus (Downey's character) has the greatest arc in the film, bigger than the full story or any lesson Stiller's Speedman may learn, a fact that draws attention to the shortcomings of the picture.

Not that the movie isn't funny. There are a number of good laughs, and some delightfully playful gore (see Stiller drink from Coogan's jugular) to keep things rolling. And while McConaughey is believably and entertainingly underconfident as an agent and Cruise often hilarious and unnerving as the foul-mouthed, hairy-armed megalomaniacal producer, their jokes fire into a vacuum without a substantical supporting story, lacking the scrumptious cake on which they ought to be the icing.