If, between gasps for air, you find yourself with a spare moment during BRIDESMAIDS, you may find yourself asking the question I did: How is it that this movie didn’t exist before now? How, nearly 30 years after BACHELOR PARTY, are we only now getting its female counterpart? This film – its premise, its potential, hell, its poster – it’s all such a ‘no-brainer,’ to use a bit of Hollywood development-speak, that it’s really a testament to the lack of brains in Hollywood that BRIDESMAIDS wasn’t made many, many years ago. By now, this bitch should already have spawned several sequels, a spinoff, and even an unnecessary reboot starring Colin Farrell.
No brainer, right?!
Hey, there’s no time like the present to welcome the biggest, filthiest, funniest new comedy franchise in many a summer. BRIDESMAIDS is funnier than THE HANGOVER, funnier than THE HANGOVER 2, and THE HANGOVER 3 (guaranteed) – funnier than practically all the phallo-centric comedies to which it presents itself as a yoni-friendly alternative. At least, I found it funnier than all those – but then, Steven Spielblog’s a ladies’ blog. Scram, penises.
Though the material in BRIDESMAIDS breaks no ground (unless you’ve never heard a sex, poop, or poopy-sex joke before,) it’s shocking how fresh it all feels to watch a female-driven comedy that’s not a romantic comedy. A key distinction. Really, I can’t think of another female-driven “broad comedy” at all. Generally, if you’ve got a comedy featuring a female protagonist, the story focuses on her search for loooove – because, you know, that’s apparently all women are capable of thinking about. But with an unflinchingly raunchy screenplay by star Kristen Wiig and Annie Mumolo, and under the direction of Paul Feig (FREAKS AND GEEKS,) BRIDESMAIDS farts all over rom-com conventional wisdom and presents itself as The First Female Gross-Out Comedy, (or maybe the 2nd,) unapologetic and – for the most part – unsentimental.
A toast! To the fact Kate Hudson's not in this movie!
There are signs of tampering. You can sense the powers-that-be pulling at the edges of the film, bulking up the flirtatious subplot between Wiig’s Annie and her Highway Patrol beau Nathan Rhodes (Chris McDowd.) These scenes, too frequent and too long, might as well come with flashing ‘studio notes!’ subtitles across the bottom of the screen. But even with the undertow of rom-com norms dragging at BRIDESMAIDS, filth wins out. And though there are plenty of fine moments for every one of the ensemble cast, (more Wendi McLendon-Covey in the sequel, please,) it’s star/co-writer Wiig who emerges the true heroine. Any actress genetically engineered to star in romantic comedy vehicles – a Kate Hudson or Rachel McAdams or even Anne Hathaway – would have smiled and mugged their way through a role like this, erring fatally on the side of likeability. But Wiig, a true comedienne, is unafraid to get ugly. Her chin turtles back into her neck, her eyes roll, her nose scrunches, and the venom flies. It’s a beautifully ugly thing to behold, and BRIDESMAIDS is filled with one priceless Wiig expression after another – all of which add up to a performance that announces the arrival not just of a new comedy star – but a new kind of comedy star. The “non-romantic-slash-pooping lady star”… for lack of better term.
Although the absence of this film before 2011 is maybe the most remarkable thing about it, and though 2012 will see its share of knock-off’s and wanna-be’s, BRIDESMAIDS is destined to be the first in an overdue new genre – and flaws aside, it’ll likely long remain the best of them, too.
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BRIDESMAIDS
Los Feliz 3 Cinemas, Los Angeles
Sunday June 19, 9:45pm showing
Steven Spielblog 