BIG TROUBLE (Barry Sonnenfeld, 2002)

Reviewed: April 8th, 2002

There aren't many absolutes in filmmaking, but there are a few (say, three or four) laws a director should never break. One of these laws is if your movie is an ensemble piece with fifteen primary characters, it cannot have an eighty-four minute runtime. Elementary math informs us that a 15 character/84 minute film allows only a minuscule five and a half minutes allotted to each character; if anyone knows how to give a character a satisfactory story arc in five and a half minutes, my email box awaits you with open arms.

To add insult to injury, not only is Barry Sonnenfeld's Big Trouble overloaded with slighted characters, but they're almost universally inhabited by very talented actors. When you get Tim Allen, Rene Russo (why isn't she the next Ingrid Bergman yet?), Dennis Farina, Stanley Tucci, Tom Sizemore, Omar Epps, Mike McShane (FDR from Seinfeld; this guy's amazing) Jason Lee, Andy Richter, Heavy D, Janeane Garofalo, Jack Kehler (the Dude's landlord from The Big Lebowski!), Patrick Warburton (Putty from Seinfeld), you don't give them under six minutes of character each. You utilize them. You go hog wild. You run away with 'em.

Their zany, bizarre, over-the-top characters are interesting, sometimes even funny, so there's tons of potential which Sonnenfeld invariably winds up wasting. Omar Epps barely has three lines. Ditto Jason Lee, a breath of fresh air, impossible not to admire. Unfortunately his character is completely underdeveloped and he always seems to come out of nowhere, making little sense even in Dave Barry/Sonnenfeld's world of oddities. What works well on Big Trouble: the novel's page has been abridged to harmful lengths on screen (such an old cliché, but that's because it keeps on happening). In the book Big Trouble -- where Barry has the luxury and space to do what he knows he needs to do -- all of the characters are properly fleshed out. But in Big Trouble the movie, characters are consistently left dangling, forgotten about, tossed to the wayside.

Sonnenfeld might have had Barry's space if he'd trusted his instincts more. Sonnenfeld's said he test screens his comedies to "see where the laughs are." That's ludicrous to me. He should already know exactly where they are because wherever he laughs, that's where they are. He shouldn't worry about trying to make every audience member laugh in the same place. Spread the comedy around. Different people find different things funny. It's disconcerting that the prevailing logic in film seems to be that comedies must be short. Why, because good comedy can't be sustained? Because people only wanna laugh for so long? Ridiculous. Look at any TV show, like The Simpsons. As long as you have the right characters in place, you can keep the laughs coming for a nearly unlimited amount of time. I don't see any reason why a film comedy can't be three hours. It seems like filmmakers always wanna jump the comedy ship as soon as possible, but what good does it do if a comedy is short, yes, yet there's still such long stretches of silence between laughs? Why not expand, and use the new space to shorten the comedic gaps? To connect the dots. More film but also a lot more humor.

Granted, there's definitely some laughs in Big Trouble (mostly from Dennis Farina; I would pay anything to see a feature length spin off about his and Jack Kehler's hit men). The wavelengths Barry and Sonnenfeld operate on are much in sync, a constant fever pitch of inspired craziness. And there's some real invention here, clever, witty asides. But there's also long dry spells. And there's a horrible, generic, all over the map score from the usually excellent James Newton Howard (The Sixth Sense), which I'm inclined to blame Sonnenfeld for, because Sonnenfeld himself takes so many missteps.

Particularly irksome is Sonnenfeld's totally inane use of freeze frames. Towards the end of Big Trouble there's a device set to detonate in a given amount of time. First, Sonnenfeld freezes the frame and superimposes the amount of time left until detonation. Then, two minutes later, he freezes the frame again and superimposes the time left at this point. But the superimposition doesn't say two minutes later! It says fifteen minutes later! And this process happens again and again! I must wonder how Sonnenfeld could be so dense. Attention filmmakers: you do not emphasize the real-time nature of a plot element if you are not willing to support it in actual real time! Tony Scott's awful Spy Game did the same exact thing last fall (freeze frames and all). If you aren't willing to play by the rules, leave the game. Plus Sonnenfeld sets up the opportunity for a great ending, only to overstay his welcome attempting to tie up all his lose strings too neatly.

Dennis Farina has the funniest line in Big Trouble. Even if you haven't seen the film you know the one I'm talking about, because, well, it's in the trailer. And I'm sick of that! It's never a good sign when a comedy's funniest line is in the trailer. The best filmmakers making the best films know how to tease an audience. The best filmmakers are so confident in their abilities they don't feel the need to put the pinnacle of their films in a television commercial. They wanna save the apex. They have so much great stuff in their films they know that even if the trailer is a compilation of slightly lesser scenes, images, moments, lines, that's still more than enough quality to get the asses in the seats. Cause then, once you have the audience in the theater, your work has only just begun. Now it's time to show them the real Grade A magic.

Luckily the public seems to intuit what Sonnenfeld doesn't comprehend. They knew the mediocrity that was in store for them with this one and so they stayed away in droves. Thankfully, Big Trouble will die a swift box office death. After the catastrophic disaster that was Wild Wild West, Sonnenfeld has failed yet again. This man is pushing his luck.

There's a great New York Times series of articles in which famous actors, producers, directors and screenwriters choose one of their favorite films to rewatch with a reporter. The article contains all of their celebrity thoughts and comments during the screening experience. Sonnenfeld recently participated. He wisely chose Dr. Strangelove, the best comedy ever put on film. Reading the article I was tricked into believing Sonnenfeld understood everything that makes Dr. Strangelove work so brilliantly. Seeing Big Trouble I realize he actually doesn't have a clue.

Return home.