REVIEW: The House Bunny (2008)

Anna Faris stars in "The House Bunny"

Written by: Kirsten Smith and Karen McCullah Lutz

Directed by: Fred Wolf

Starring: Anna Faris, Colin Hanks, Emma Stone, Katherine McPhee, Kat Dennings, Hugh Hefner (!), Beverly D'Angelo

Grade: C+/B-

Consensus: Pleasant enough brain-candy as long as you are not expecting anything groundbreaking. The movie pushes the age-old message that real beauty rests on the inside, but it's kinda cool to also be able to flaunt how hot you are. The film ultimately fails because it wants it both ways. In the words of Jesus Christ, "a house divided against itself cannot stand." In the case of this film, those immortal words could not apply more. Faris is the only real reason to see this film.

Buy this film here!

Hey, I wholeheartedly admit it. Anna Faris is a doll. Not only is she an extremely lovely and talented comedic actress, she also is from Edmonds, Washington, just a twenty minute drive from where I grew up. Not only that, she also attended the University of Washington beginning the same year that I was there. Doh! Did I meet her at an Alpha Delta Phi/Phi Gamma-something sorority mixer? Where were you, Anna? I pine, I pine.

Seriously, before I lose all objectivity and risk my keyboard shorting out from excess drool, I'd better gather my meandering faculties. I'll confess, from my standpoint, that as talented as Faris is, she has starred in a whole lot of Hollywood crap, and she deserves better. Her performance in The House Bunny proves this. But the film barely lifts itself above the schlock Faris has previously been forced to slog through (think "Scary Movie" franchise). To her credit, she has had smaller supporting roles in the acclaimed films "Lost in Translation" and "Brokeback Mountain", but has yet to attain true winning leading lady status in a truly winning motion picture. The House Bunny had the potential to do for Faris what "Legally Blonde" did for Reese Witherspoon, especially considering the screenwriters were the same for both films, but the execution of the already seamy subject matter is poorly, well, executed.

The film retreads all of the familiar plot trappings of the girl power genre: (1) lots of pink, (2)awkward self-identities, (3)efforts to change self-identities in order to enlist the attention of testosterone machines, (4)realized failure of true self-authenticity, (5)a final speech and take-home message of being true to your inner self, and, finally, (6) did I mention lots of pink? And the screenwriters, who also wrote the far superior "Legally Blonde", throw in every possible cliche involving the themes of accepting yourself for who you are and not what you look like: a laudable theme, but a very tired one to the point of utterly amazing ridiculousness. In fact, at one point near the end of the movie I wanted to barf. However, the film's misgivings do not mask the fact that it is a whole lot of fun as long as you aren't expecting anything.

The plot involves a Playboy bunny named Shelley (Faris) who has known nothing of the world except what she has learned through the who-knows antics of Hefner's well-conceived pleasure palace known as the Playboy mansion. Unexpectedly kicked out of the mansion for reasons Shelley does not understand, she travels through Beverly Hills and finds a college campus Greek system where she becomes a house mother for a doomed to be condemned sorority housing only seven misfit young girls. The fun ensues when Shelley teaches them what she knows: in order to get enough pledges to keep their house, she vows to transform them into sexy butterflies. Faris is simply a riot, often dressed in next to nothing and doing whatever she can to attract boys to the sorority from scantily clad car washes to wildly permissive calender shoots of the newly-sexed up young femmes. Scenes not to be missed are her two dates with the pleasant enough Mr. Nice Guy Oliver (Colin Hanks) where Shelley tries the sexy Marilyn Monroe approach and indulges a diatribe intended to seduce through desperately advertising the virtues of her "butt". After coming across as Marilyn Monroe on Quaaludes, she furtively commits to learning about world events and collecting an extensive vocabulary (on flash cards) to impress and win back Oliver on their second date. The scene leads to yet another hilarious showcase for Faris's both verbal and physical comedic talents.

This is a film that is desperately searching for heart--and it tries, believe me--but besides Faris's go-for-broke, gloriously ditzy and well-timed comedic abilities, the direction is simply horrible at times, leaving us holding our breath going, "that joke could have totally worked". As a result of the disorganized and scattershot direction, the well-cast young women are underused (Emma Stone is coming into her own as a fine young actress as well), the often well-written dialogue is forced, misplaced, or relegated to "outtake" status, and the poor character development of the girls we want so much to care about creates a "vapid"(a word repeated at least six times at different points in the movie; I am actually grateful for the Sesame Street approach here) atmosphere where emotional ranges are depleted and the "heart" we sense at times evaporates. It is truly a blessing that Faris was cast in this vehicle--had she not have been, this production could possibly have been headed for the straight-to-video vaults.

It is amazing, however, given all of these reasons I have laid out to convince you to not see this film, that I actually recommend it for a lazy Saturday popcorn evening. If anything, many viewers will truly have fun with Faris in the role. If not, well, you have been warned. And, ok, stop tugging my arm. I couldn't help myself but to enjoy it. And I'm still crushing hard on Faris. Man oh man, objectivity sucks.