Viking Night: Kingpin
By Bruce Hall
March 24, 2015
BoxOfficeProphets.com
Well, it goes a little something like this…
Roy Munson (Harrelson) is a wide-eyed prodigy whose preternatural talent once made him the darling of the bowling community. Across the Midwest, the name Munson became synonymous with “winning.” True to his father’s wishes, for one brief shining moment, Roy was the Mickey Mantle of the amateur circuit. By 1979, the sky was the limit, and life was as sweet as a certain high fructose corn syrup nonfat dry milk imitation chocolate beverage. Unfortunately success often breeds contempt. And when Roy wins his first professional tournament, he defeats Ernie McCracken (Murray), the most contemptible man in all of professional sports. Eager for revenge, "Big Ern" ropes his gullible nemesis into an ill-conceived con, costing Roy both his right hand and career.
Nearly two decades later, Ernie is still the toast of professional bowling. He’s also one of the sport’s most charitable contributors, selflessly devoting his time to hot single moms wherever the opportunity arises. Roy meanwhile, nurses a crippling booze habit and ekes out a living as a travelling condom salesman at sleazy backwater bowling alleys. His right hand has been replaced with a hideous prosthetic. His once inexhaustible well of confidence is now a gaping, empty hole about the size and shape of his old Brunswick. He lives in a dilapidated (by Hollywood standards) tenement, three months behind on the rent and two steps ahead of his ghastly landlady (Lin Shaye). And then one morning, having again found the novelty condom market dry, Roy sees his future.
A middle-aged Amish guy effortlessly bowls a professional level game, seemingly oblivious to his own talent. Ishmael (Quaid) is his name, and at first he resists Roy’s attempts to recruit him. Seeing a little of himself in Ishmael, Roy persists, leading to some not entirely amusing scenes back in Amish country, where Roy goes undercover, hoping to infiltrate Ishmael’s family and convince the man to travel to Reno for a championship tournament. There, any obvious Amish stereotype you can think of is immediately and repeatedly exploited with all the subtlety of a horny bull that you thought was a cow and tried to milk because you are a steaming idiot. I’m sure you can fill in the rest of the shtick yourself.
Ha ha.
And I guess that’s the part that disappointed me the most about Kingpin. As I said earlier, being a fan of Dumb and Dumber, I can’t say that movie’s level of maturity is the issue. It’s more the level of effort. There are undoubtedly a handful (har) of funny lines, and more than a few amusing moments. But for the most part, Kingpin is a series of lukewarm gags and clichés that feel like outtakes from better, funnier movies - strung together in no particular order. Of course, Roy eventually convinces Ishmael to go to Reno, and their road trip is replete with hijinks and tomfoolery, but more often than not, the laughs are as hollow and lifeless as Roy’s rubber hand. Vanessa Angel eventually joins the gang as Claudia, the Deceptively Smart Hot Chick Slash Love Interest, and brings with her a whole new palette of tired comedy boilerplate.
The biggest letdown may be that for all its emphasis on cliché, Kingpin misses some rather obvious marks. Bill Murray improvises his ass off as McCracken, and surely gets off one or two of the best lines in the film. But his character is such a complete and unrelenting bastard that you’re hard pressed to laugh at him. Contrast him to Ben Stiller’s character from Dodgeball, who is equally smarmy but also possesses a sympathetic component that pays off handsomely at the end of the film. Murray is also absent from the film for so long you nearly forget about him, making him feel less like a character and more like an obligatory plot point.
Similarly, Claudia’s jealous boyfriend Stanley threatens to dog her for the rest of the film when she takes up with Roy and Ishmael, and then...largely vanishes. I’ve probably given too much away but the point is that the story’s largest protagonists don’t feel like a part of it, suffering from incomplete character arcs - and the entire film suffers for it. For those of you already rolling your eyes at what you consider over analysis of a lowbrow farce, remember that the best comedies succeed when character roles are clearly defined, there is coherence and commitment behind the plot, and the humor evolves with a consistent tone and pattern. If you find a movie easy to laugh at, it’s probably because these things have been done right.
Kingpin is not that movie. It’s more of a science experiment - a curious attempt to combine adolescent toilet humor with earnest heart and brief flashes of honest drama. It smacks of someone having tried to do too many things at once - perhaps trying to live up to the expectations established by their previous film. The result is that Kingpin meets its goals only sporadically, and certainly not enough to maintain anything resembling long term enjoyment. It’s a little like watching a fifth grade talent show. Part of you is horrified because it’s terrible, but the rest of you is forgiving because they’re just kids - and they’re trying SO hard.
The Farrellys don’t really have that excuse - at least not the first part of it. I guess I appreciate the effort that went into Kingpin, but I just can’t help but see it as a misguided, lost opportunity. A lack of direction, too many moving parts, and not enough commitment to the characters make this a movie that’s more fun to talk about than it is to watch. To use an analogy from an equally boring sport, the Brothers Farrelly may have peaked their very first time at bat.