Ashton Kutcher, for possibly the first time in his career, plays against type. And it works. I actually liked him when the calculated stupidity is turned down.
Bernie Mac, playing precisely to type, is still funny as hell.
Mac does blustery but charming extremely well.
Still, the movie is predictable.
And one of the plot points just doesn’t seem worth all the furor which chips away at the movie’s tiny store of credibility.
The scene where Kutcher’s character is goaded into telling racial jokes is actually done very well.
One of the great thins about comedies is that they can deliver a message with the kind of gentle grace that self-conscious dramas can rarely achieve. They can do their best to demonstrate truths without having to hit us over the head with their messages. But here’s the problem: is interracial dating really that big of a deal any more? Is it really that unusual or remarkable? Perhaps it is, but it just isn’t one of those things that rouses much interest in me.
Luckily, there are a few scenes that are laugh out loud funny to compensate for the flat parts--just a few, though.
This movie just barely does better than tread water. It isn’t great, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as I expected. In essence, by exceeding my exceptionally low expectations, I found myself enjoying the small charms that it had to offer.