“Hot Pursuit,” the new comedy starring Reese Witherspoon and Sofia Vergara, reeks of the kind of moviemaking-by-committee one finds at major studios when the executives are trying to replicate the success of another popular film.
I imagine the brain-storming session for “Hot Pursuit” going like this:
Executive one: “What was the name of the movie Sandra Bullock and Melissa McCarthy were in? You know, the one where they played cops that took down a drug lord?”
Executive two: “’The Heat.’ Bullock played an FBI agent, not a cop.”
Executive one: “You paid that much attention? All I know is it made a big pile of cash. We should put together a movie like that. It would make a ton of money, too.”
Executive two: “Job security! I like the way you think.”
Executive one: “All we need is a pair of actresses with box office draw.”
Executive two: “And a good director and script.”
[Both men burst out laughing.]
Executive one: “Good one. Why would we need a script when our stars can make up everything on the spot? McCarthy does it, and look how much money she’s making.”
Executive one: “True, but we should give them something to start with. Maybe one of the actresses could be a cop, and the other could be...”
Executive two: “...the wife of...”
Executive one: “...an informant in a drug trial!”
Executive one: “Drugs! Bingo! And the cop has to drive the wife to the trial, where she’ll be testifying. Only the drug lord is hot on their trail.”
Executive two: “A road trip! I like it. It would be a cross between ‘The Heat’ and ‘Rainman.’”
Executive one: “How much money did ‘Rainman’ make?”
Executive two: “A lot.”
Executive one: “Job security! I like the way you think.”
And so on. Until what wound up in theaters was a movie with Witherspoon as a bumbling cop who wants to prove she can handle a tough assignment and Vergara as the well-heeled (literally) wife of the number two man in a drug empire. When the kingpin sends his goons to find and eliminate the witness, the ladies run for their lives.
“Hot Pursuit” was supposed to be a comedy, but for me to describe it as such would be generous, as I laughed only twice. There’s a funny physical gag involving a pick-up truck and a surprise passenger in the back, and I liked the running joke in which newscasters increase the age of Vergara’s character with each broadcast.
Other than that, I stared slack-jawed in disbelief at the screen as Witherspoon performed the Heimlich maneuver on a beagle, as Witherspoon and Vergara snuck past a police check point by hiding under a deer decoy and making raspberry sounds, and as both actresses pretended (badly) to be high on cocaine.
In scene after scene, the ladies scream, overact, and improvise clunky dialogue that somehow made it into the movie, leaving me to wonder how bad the stuff that got cut was.
Witherspoon and Vergara aren’t entirely to blame. The run-of-the-mill storyline didn’t provide much inspiration, and the direction by Anne Fletcher is bland.
“Hot Pursuit” is about as uninspired as movies come. Even the title lacks imagination. I return you to the conversation between our two studio bosses:
Executive one: “What about the title? We need something that makes people associate our movie with ‘The Heat.’”
Executive two: “How about ‘Hot’ something? ‘Hot Mommas.’ ‘Hot Wired.’ ‘Hot...’”
Executive one: “They’re being chased, so how about ‘Hot Pursuit?’”
Executive two: “Bingo! We have a hit!”
Executive one: “Is that lunch?”
Executive two: “I like the way you think. Drinks are on me.”
One star out of four. Rated PG-13 for sexual content, violence, language, and drug material. David Laprad is the assistant editor of the Hamilton County Herald and an award-winning columnist and photographer. Contact him at dlaprad@hamiltoncountyherald.com.
A hot mess
“H
ot Pursuit,” the new comedy starring Reese Witherspoon and Sofia Vergara, reeks of the kind of moviemaking-by-committee one finds at major studios when the executives are trying to replicate the success of another popular film.
I imagine the brain-storming session for “Hot Pursuit” going like this:
Executive one: “What was the name of the movie Sandra Bullock and Melissa McCarthy were in? You know, the one where they played cops that took down a drug lord?”
Executive two: “’The Heat.’ Bullock played an FBI agent, not a cop.”
Executive one: “You paid that much attention? All I know is it made a big pile of cash. We should put together a movie like that. It would make a ton of money, too.”
Executive two: “Job security! I like the way you think.”
Executive one: “All we need is a pair of actresses with box office draw.”
Executive two: “And a good director and script.”
[Both men burst out laughing.]
Executive one: “Good one. Why would we need a script when our stars can make up everything on the spot? McCarthy does it, and look how much money she’s making.”
Executive one: “True, but we should give them something to start with. Maybe one of the actresses could be a cop, and the other could be...”
Executive two: “...the wife of...”
Executive one: “...an informant in a drug trial!”
Executive one: “Drugs! Bingo! And the cop has to drive the wife to the trial, where she’ll be testifying. Only the drug lord is hot on their trail.”
Executive two: “A road trip! I like it. It would be a cross between ‘The Heat’ and ‘Rainman.’”
Executive one: “How much money did ‘Rainman’ make?”
Executive two: “A lot.”
Executive one: “Job security! I like the way you think.”
And so on. Until what wound up in theaters was a movie with Witherspoon as a bumbling cop who wants to prove she can handle a tough assignment and Vergara as the well-heeled (literally) wife of the number two man in a drug empire. When the kingpin sends his goons to find and eliminate the witness, the ladies run for their lives.
“Hot Pursuit” was supposed to be a comedy, but for me to describe it as such would be generous, as I laughed only twice. There’s a funny physical gag involving a pick-up truck and a surprise passenger in the back, and I liked the running joke in which newscasters increase the age of Vergara’s character with each broadcast.
Other than that, I stared slack-jawed in disbelief at the screen as Witherspoon performed the Heimlich maneuver on a beagle, as Witherspoon and Vergara snuck past a police check point by hiding under a deer decoy and making raspberry sounds, and as both actresses pretended (badly) to be high on cocaine.
In scene after scene, the ladies scream, overact, and improvise clunky dialogue that somehow made it into the movie, leaving me to wonder how bad the stuff that got cut was.
Witherspoon and Vergara aren’t entirely to blame. The run-of-the-mill storyline didn’t provide much inspiration, and the direction by Anne Fletcher is bland.
“Hot Pursuit” is about as uninspired as movies come. Even the title lacks imagination. I return you to the conversation between our two studio bosses:
Executive one: “What about the title? We need something that makes people associate our movie with ‘The Heat.’”
Executive two: “How about ‘Hot’ something? ‘Hot Mommas.’ ‘Hot Wired.’ ‘Hot...’”
Executive one: “They’re being chased, so how about ‘Hot Pursuit?’”
Executive two: “Bingo! We have a hit!”
Executive one: “Is that lunch?”
Executive two: “I like the way you think. Drinks are on me.”
One star out of four. Rated PG-13 for sexual content, violence, language, and drug material. David Laprad is the assistant editor of the Hamilton County Herald and an award-winning columnist and photographer. Contact him at dlaprad@hamiltoncountyherald.com.