Ah the unwanted guest. It’s been the subject of many a movie. You know the kind: Messy doesn’t respect your privacy stops up the toilet has sex with someone in your living room using butter and nearly burns the house down. That’s Dupree (Wilson) to a tee and for newlyweds Carl (Matt Dillon) and Molly (Kate Hudson) having Dupree in their house is downright disastrous. At first Carl is psyched to have his best man as his couch guest while Molly is less than enthused with Dupree’s well-meaning antics. But when Molly starts feeling abandoned by Carl’s workaholic tendencies—as he in turn tries to impress his demanding new father-in-law (Michael Douglas)—suddenly Dupree’s good-natured personality and carefree wisdom is comforting to Molly much to Carl’s chagrin. But don’t fret. This three’s-a-crowd scenario will work out some kind of resolution as the loveable guest shows how a little inner Dupree-“ness” might just be one of life's hidden secrets. With Dupree Wilson is attempting to break away from the buddy comedies he’s known for such as Starsky and Hutch and Wedding Crashers in which he mostly plays the pithy straight man. There are definitely moments of true Wilson brilliance in Dupree especially when he’s avoiding a building security guard by throwing “seven different kinds of smoke” at him. But playing off someone slightly wackier than himself is really Wilson’s forte and in trying to carry a whole comedy on his own he’s not nearly as successful as say Jim Carrey or even Jack Black. It also doesn’t help that Hudson and Dillon aren’t able to pick up the slack. Hudson is appealing as the beleaguered Molly and Dillon seems to be getting better looking with age—but together they are one big ball of bland especially Dillon who is sorely miscast as the straight guy. On the other hand Douglas does a nice turn as the overprotective daddy who can’t let his little girl go. Basically Dupree is Wilson’s big vanity project. As the film’s main producer the funnyman shopped the script by first-timer Mike LeSieur around and got a deal right away—no doubt based on Wilson’s previous moneymaking comedies. Directors Joe and Anthony Russo brothers best known for helming Welcome to Collinwood as well as several episodes of TV’s Arrested Development do the best they can with the Dupree material. But it’s a shame Wilson doesn’t have the same discerning tastes as his frequent collaborator director Wes Anderson (The Royal Tenenbaums). You Me and Dupree is just well ordinary and no amount of Wilson mad-cap energy and wily antics can raise it up into the comedic stratosphere.
She's a hip-hoppin' be-boppin' mean ol' nanny who whips a mean stew and your butt for not doing your homework—and now she's back! Alas we don't speak of the Mrs. Doubtfire sequel but rather that of Big Momma a.k.a. FBI Agent Malcolm Turner (Martin Lawrence). Agent Warner has cut ties with the FBI at the behest of Sherry (Nia Long)—who as you no doubt recall is the granddaughter of the real Big Momma—since she's pregnant with Malcolm's baby. But wouldn't you know that he gets sucked back in after a former colleague is killed. Posing as Big Momma he's hired as a nanny to a suburban family the deadbeat dad of which is involved in the murder and a crime plot. She does it all—cooks cleans dances and even runs down bad guys but it's a race against time to stop the potential national security crisis. That is a race against the film's (mercifully) short running time. Although Lawrence's resume includes some of the dregs of comedy it's hard to argue that he is truly blessed when it comes to physical comedy and comedic timing. He continues both trends here this time without the help of the breakthrough actors of the past two years Paul Giamatti and Terrence Howard who yes both starred in the first Big Momma's House. That means Lawrence's urban mania is truly on its own and absurd and juvenile as the film may be even film snobs can't hold back a few laughs at his Big Momma outlandishness. Longreturns for no more than a select few scenes and to provide a minor conflict in the story. The notable newcomer is CSI's Emily Procter as the sterile mother who hires Big Momma. She does a serviceable job as a suburban Petite Momma. Might she be the next Giamatti or Howard to bolt to bigger and better things in time for the next sequel? No.
Big Momma's House 2 is right up director John Whitesell's alley. He's the guy behind such misses—though not necessarily financially—as Malibu's Most Wanted and See Spot Run and he's right at home here. Whitesell doesn't hold back in (literally and figuratively) pulling the robe off Big Momma but he clearly knows that nothing is to interrupt Lawrence's antics not even the thin story line. Aside from that he knows quite well how to execute thinly veiled rip-offs of the aforementioned Mrs. Doubtfire as well as countless other hidden-motive comedies (i.e. Kindergarten Cop Houseguest et al). Because while the main guise is the Big Momma fat suit Whitesell parades the film about as a feel-good/family flick.