Could the summer audience for arrested-development comedies be shrinking?
Owen Wilson’s “You, Me and Dupree” has not repeated the box-office success of “Wedding Crashers.” Kevin Smith’s “Clerks II” is cooling off much faster than the original “Clerks.” Defying most expectations, Jack Black’s lamebrain “Nacho Libre” has grossed $30 million less than Meryl Streep’s sophisticated “The Devil Wears Prada.”
Will Ferrell’s staying power is now being tested by “Talledega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby,” which reunites him with his “Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy” director and co-writer, Adam McKay. As before, it’s not so much a narrative as it is a collection of loosely related gags. Some are funny, some make good use of talented actors, and some overstay their welcome.
An episode in which Ferrell says grace at the dinner table, insisting on addressing the eight-pound baby Jesus while the other diners point out that Jesus made more of an impact as an adult, is typical. It’s hilarious at first, but McKay and his actors don’t know when to quit. At least the blooper-reel version of the scene is saved for the final credits.
Ferrell plays Ricky Bobby, a hotshot NASCAR driver whose No. 1 status is threatened by a flamboyantly gay French driver, Jean Girard (Sacha Baron Cohen), who brings his husband to the track and specializes in racetrack existentialism (he reads Camus’ “The Stranger” while he’s driving). Ricky is also losing his groupie wife (Leslie Bibb) to his best pal, Cal Naughton Jr. (John C. Reilly), who insists on maintaining their buddy relationship even after the divorce.
Ricky’s life is further complicated by a deadbeat dad, Reese (Gary Cole), who turns up every decade or so to give Ricky useless advice about losing and winning. Cole, who milks a remarkable number of laughs from this sketchiest of characters, revels in the utter worthlessness of the man. It’s an inspired portrait of anti-social dementia, and Ferrell & Co. should be given full credit for letting him run with it.
Also lending a touch of class to the proceedings are three relatively recent supporting-player Oscar nominees. Michael Clarke Duncan (from “The Green Mile”) does comic wonders with what could have been the peripheral role of Lucius Washington, Ricky’s sardonic crew chief, who often represents the sole voice of sanity.
Amy Adams (nominated early this year for “Junebug”) is a force of nature as Ricky’s most devoted fan, who turns a pep talk into a seduction in no time. Reilly, nominated for “Chicago,” improvised several of his scenes, with uneven results. He’s at his best when the character is fighting to keep his relationship with Ricky from expiring.
“Talladega Nights” ultimately has very little to do with racetrack driving, the thrill of victory or the agony of defeat. It’s all over the place. Like Ricky’s precocious kids, who fall in love with the word “anarchy” even as they try to define it, it’s wide open to plenty of possibilities. As midsummer silliness goes, you could do a lot worse.