Upon completing a Saturday night screening-on-Starz of Bob Odenkirk's
The Brothers Solomon, all I could do was turn to my father, who had silently endured the whole ordeal with me with few words of protest, and apologize - apologize for both the dismal would-be spectacle and for my unwillingness to change the channel in the supremely vain hope that the situation would improve.
Although the movie's end brought with it an overwhelming wash of gratitude - not just for the finality of banality but for the reminder that I had not paid a cent to see it. I was also grateful for the removal of the sensation that I give too many good reviews. I had previously questioned my ability to objectively review a movie for fear of liking movies too much, but
The Brothers Solomon reminded me that, yes, I can dislike a movie. And intensely dislike it I did.
Sheltered brothers John and Dean Solomon (Will Arnett and Will Forte) find out that their comatose father's (Lee Majors, whose career is currently as lifeless as his character) last wish was to see his first grandchild. Despite being ludicrously inept with women, including sexy neighbor Tara (Malin Akerman), John and Dean vow to have a child, eventually resorting to the use of a surrogate mother (Kristen Wiig), who comes with an on-and-off boyfriend (Chi McBride, who provides the majority [which should not imply a great deal of laughs] of the weak chuckles the film elicits).
While
Get Smart unfortunately placed all the funny bits in its marketing campaign,
The Brothers Solomon had deceptively funny trailers, the humor of which is strangely missing from the film. While I distinctly remember laughing at the commercials, I found myself
not laughing at the movie, rather making a few chuckling noises that could easily pass as sound effects accompanying blowing my nose (the real reason I haven't reviewed in a week). The characters try to be endearing and funny, but they succeed in being annoyingly aggravating, as abrasive as a cheese grater, and as entertaining as fresh paint in the early stages of dehydration.
I mentioned McBride in the connotation of providing laughs, but perhaps that was an exaggeration. This B-list version of Forest Whitaker (which I suppose makes him a C-list version of Denzel Washington, right?) does little more than drop F-bombs and act imposing, which is admittedly more acting than Forte and even Arnett (who was marvelous as GOB in
Arrested Development but is disappointingly lackluster) are doing here. Even Akerman, whose performance here makes me question her casting in Zack Snyder's
Watchmen (landing in 2009, comic fans heretofore living under a rock), never really succeeds in portraying the sexy neighbor (a term I repeat since I can't find any other purpose to her character), a role which strangely isn't aided by a rooftop hot tub scene.
I say with a great deal of confidence that this is the worst movie I've seen all summer, possibly all year. Of all time? Perhaps, but that's only because, like Drew Barrymore of Adam Sandler in
50 First Dates, I tend to forget bad movies, which fade from my mind like an old soldier.
May
The Brothers Solomon quickly join those ranks of the few, the don't-be-so-proud, the ugly.
Would you believe "best movie of the year"? No. Would you believe "funniest movie of the year"? No. Would you believe "so-so espionage farce with a few good chuckles"?