Starring Michael Douglas, Albert Brooks. Written by Nat Mauldin, Ed Solomon
from a screenplay by Andrew Bergman. Directed by Andrew Fleming. (PG) 95 min.
Opens May 23.
Though it shares its name and premise with the 1979 buddy movie starring Alan Arkin and Peter Falk, The In-Laws is more reminiscent of a dimmer-witted Meet the Parents.
Here's another comedy in which a neurotic schmuck is imperilled and
injured in a series of encounters with his new in-laws. Unfortunately,
this time round the laughs are scarcer than yarmulkes at a Baptist
wedding.
Instead of Ben Stiller's male nurse, we get a very
tired-looking Albert Brooks as Jerry Peyser, an uptight, fanny
pack-wearing Chicago podiatrist who is anxious enough about his
daughter's wedding without having to contend with the father of the
groom. Michael Douglas is Steve Tobias, a mysterious man of action who
may or may not be a deep-cover CIA agent. In any case, he soon gets
Jerry mixed up in some nefarious business involving a missing submarine
and an effeminate French arms dealer named Jean-Pierre (David Suchet).
Instead of fussing over wedding details with the caterer, Jerry must
contend with Jean-Pierre's lascivious advances, Steve's ill-fated
attempts to put things right and, most perilous of all, a cameo by K.C.
and the Sunshine Band.
While Douglas tackles the material with as much gusto as he can
muster, and Candice Bergen is terrific as Steve's hostile ex-wife,
Brooks clearly senses that defeat is inevitable. The two most memorable
gags indicate the level of desperation in
The In-Laws:
after Steve tells Jerry that he's slipped him a roofie, Jerry murmurs
feebly, "Don't rape me," before passing out; later, we're treated to
the sight of Brooks' rear in a red thong as he exits a hot tub.
Throughout the film, the actors are saddled with sub-Farrelly Brothers
schtick when what they need is Billy Wilder. Even Jay Roach and a lie
detector would do.