Rating
-
Comedy (US);
2000; Rated PG-13; 126 Minutes
Cast
Mel Gibson: Nick Marshall
Helen Hunt: Darcy McGuire
Marisa Tomei: Lola
Alan Alda: Dan Wanamaker
Ashley Johnson: Alexandra Marshall
Mark Feuerstein: Morgan
Lauren Holly: Gigi
Produced by Bruce A. Block, Susan Cartsonis, Bruce
Davey, Carmen Finestra, Gina Matthews, Stephen McEveety,
David McFadzean, Nancy Meyers and Matt Williams; Directed
by Nancy Meyers; Screenwritten by Josh Goldsmith,
Diane Drake and Cathy Yuspa
Review Uploaded
1/19/01 |
Written
by DAVID KEYES Assume
for a moment that men were really able to listen in on the
deep personal thoughts of the human female. What exactly
would they hear? Dark secrets? Exotic desires? Perhaps shocking
confessions? A mixture of all these things? The extent of
the human mind boggles us, so no one can be exactly sure
as to what is buried beneath the female cranium. Nonetheless,
the attempt to presume what goes on inside makes for quite
an interesting idea in a motion picture, and in "What Women
Want," we see a thought-provoking spin in which Mel Gibson
plays a man whose severe miscalculation of himself as heaven's
gift to women is overturned when he is given the incredible
opportunity to hear every thought that jumps out of their
heads.
It
is a conviction, unfortunately, that does not come across
as effective as it might have, the basic reason stemming
directly from the performance by Gibson, whose character
starts out so detestable and loathsome that it hopelessly
undermines the narrative's reasoning. It's easy to buy in
on the fact that any man naive enough to think women worship
the ground he walks on would seek some kind of change in
ideals after being given this kind of power; how can we,
though, even come close to believing that a man with sexist,
crude and incessantly chauvinistic behavior could do exactly
the same? Better yet, why would he want to, especially after
finding out exactly how many of women around really feel
about him?
Here's
the story: Gibson plays Nick Marshall, an executive at a
local ad agency who is up for a big promotion. He's also
the idol of every wannabe-player, a man who manipulates
and woos any woman around him, and is then praised by his
friends for managing to cage any "chick" he desires. Things
begin to heat up, though, when the agency, seeking someone
to help bring in a larger female market, hires Darcy McGuire
(Helen Hunt) in Marshall's place. She's taut, confident
and a man-eater who does not hesitate to encourage every
one around to connect with their "feminine side." When Marshall
reluctantly takes that advice, though, he is electrocuted
in the process. The incident triggers some kind of telepathy
that allows him to hear anything that comes into the mind
of a nearby woman. It is with that privilege, however, that
Marshall gets a taste of his own medicine.
The
focal point of love interest in this romantic comedy is
that between Marshall and McGuire, but so little chemistry
is generated between them that they drag us on and on without
genuine interest. And that's a surprise, to some extents,
because both characters are written with substantial oppositions
and colorful personas, implying some kind of possibility
for vibrant interaction. None of it ever gets of the ground,
though; it's dry, routine, and severely downplayed. Certainly
Hunt and Gibson are cast in the correct roles; it's just
the screenplay's misconception that ruins it all.
Admirable,
at least, are some the minor characters, particularly those
played by Bette Midler and Marisa Tomei. They are as wise
and informed as any female could be in a movie, and though
they don't have as much screen time as they should, they
do provide for a few humorous chuckles at some points. A
great deal can be said in defense of director Nancy Meyers,
too, who pays some very close attention to characteristics
of the human female, thoroughly justifying their fantasies,
moods or motives even when we ourselves would never consider
thinking or acting on those particular situations.
When
you get right down to the basics, the only serious problem
here (other than the stiff Hunt/Gibson relationship) is
the screenplay's depiction of these events. Mel Gibson may
look like a Casanova on screen here, but is a character
like Nick Marshall, who shoots only to score (literally),
really what women want in a man? Change is good, but a leopard's
spots are forever.
©
2001, David Keyes, Cinemaphile.org.
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