When people mention that Tropic Thunder is a satire of all things Hollywood - overzealous actors, greedy and disconnected executives and the perversion of the creative process - you might not initially realize how far they've taken it. The movie is a commentary on the familiar faces in the industry - the moguls and the mega-stars, but it is also one of its fans, its critics, its techniques, its very MO.
Take, for example, the opening of the movie. Before we see even a frame of the movie-within-a-movie, we're treated to an attack on the commercialism of Tinseltown, through fake ads (a sports drink called "Booty Sweat," and its accompanying "Bust-A-Nut" bar) and, eventually, movie trailers. There's the sixth installment of action star Tugg Speedman's (Ben Stiller) "Scorcher" franchise, followed only by Jeff Portnoy (Jack Black) doing his best Eddie Murphy imitation in "The Fatties: Fart Two." And to close it out, we get the art house drama "Satan's Alley," a kind of medieval Brokeback-esque romance between two monks (Tobey Maguire, and Robert Downey Jr.'s on-screen ego, Kirk Lazarus).
Stiller, who directed and co-wrote with Justin Theroux and Etan Cohen, is no stranger to comedy. His parents - Jerry Stiller and Anne Meara - made up one of the enduring comedy duos of the 1960's, so it's basically in his blood. His last venture into directing was 2001's Zoolander - a wildly hilarious satire of the vanity and ignorance of the modeling industry. Yet deservedly or not, most people would probably point to Stiller's comedically-flawed characters as the apex of his talent.
And we see a little bit of all of them here in his newest role, action star Tugg Speedman. Speedman's a Stallone type hero, who, in dealing with his decreasing relevance in Hollywood, sort of reminds us of Stiller's past lovable loser roles in Meet the Parents or There's Something About Mary. But as he leads the team of actor-soldiers on the set of the war flick, there are flashes of his gung-ho, strictly business types, as in Dodgeball's White Goodman.
But after a failed attempt at serious drama playing a mentally retarded farmhand named Simple Jack, his next role is very much a make-or-break performance for Speedman. So for this adaptation of a Vietnam vet's memoir, he teams up with the comedian Portnoy and the award-winner Lazarus, who's had his skin darkened so as to play the platoon's African-American Sgt. Osiris. (Before anyone says anything, it's not a knock on African-Americans; it's a knock on the actors who think their talent and range are limitless.) Hot new rapper Alpa Chino (say it out loud) and relative newcomer Kevin Sandusky (Or is it Kyle? They never seem to know) round out the troop. And almost before anything happens, there's already trouble.
Struggling with a rookie director (Steve Coogan) and numerous financial catastrophes in the shooting, the film is finds itself a month behind schedule only five days in, and the studio executives (Bill Hader and a surprisingly funny Tom Cruise) aren't happy. And the stars couldn't appear to care less; they're too preoccupied with the setup of their on-location TiVo systems or the occasional call from an agent (the scene-stealing Matthew McConaughey).
So the Vietnam vet (Nick Nolte, looking not entirely unlike his recent mugshot) proposes that the filming be moved deep into the jungle and shot guerrilla-style, and it's here that Tropic Thunder takes on a new direction. It's not as much a movie about the making of a war-movie anymore; once they're thrust into the wild, attacked and captured by drug lords, you know it's become strictly a war-movie on its own. The trouble is that now we're dealing with two brands of humor that don't exactly level up with each other.
On one side, there's the occasional dip back into Hollywood-land and all its side-splitting hysteria, as the studios react to their stars' abductions. This is the kind of humor you wish the entire flick was made of, as executives mistake ransom phone-calls for agency negotiations and big-headed stars utter lines like "I don't read the script; the script reads me."
But unfortunately, this is often buried beneath a feeble attempt at action-comedy. Here, they'll try just about anything to make us laugh - from stereotype jokes (a "you people" interaction, along with a hilarious new entry to the moviegoer's vocabulary - "full retard") to obscenity-laced rants in drug deprivation. Sometimes they work, but more often than not (excuse the pun), they misfire - meriting little more than forced giggles that pale in comparison to the earlier belly laughs.
And it's this unevenness that ultimately drags a promising movie down. As the film comes from its brief moments of brilliance to be dominated by the stupider bits, we find ourselves too often on the fringe - unsure of whether we really like the movie or not. Mere instinct suggests that it might someday be a grower, but for now, it's just OK. War is hell, indeed.
2 stars out of 4
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