My Best Friend is the sort of movie that should be flung in the face of every snot-nosed, self-important would-be (hyphen record!) cineaste. There's more wit, invention, and insight into human nature in one episode of Arrested Development... hell, in one episode of Scrubs... shoot, in one Alec Baldwin monologue for 30 Rock than in MBF's entire 94 minutes. Cheers had more funny before the first commercial break.
Now, not every example of foreign film has to be Manon of the Spring. Or The 400 Blows. Or even Pan's Labyrinth or Lives of Others. I dug District B-13, a French film which, in the words of Dan of the Moxie, "speaks the international language of blowing stuff up." Night Watch and Day Watch are just hysterical; if anyone can pack more energy into a foot of film than Timur Bekmambetov, please get them some Ritalin (maybe Adderol; Bekmambetov will make you crazy, baby).
No, my problem with MBF is not that it is insufficiently deep, or complex. It's just a dull, middle of the road comedy, with a stale premise and by-the-numbers execution. No, my problem is people like the guy in front of me who laughed uproariously at every here-it-comes punchline, then announced during the intermission that "Hollywood would never make a movie like this." Yeah, yeah they would. In fact, they have. Many times over. Usually starring some combination of Adam Sandler, Rob Schneider, Jim Carrey and/or Matthew McConaughey. Subtitles don't redeem bad writing, and My Best Friend is nothing special.
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