Heads Up
Beware films packing the one-two punch of Freddie
Prinze, Jr. as romantic lead and supermodels as
objects of toilet humor. I'm thinking of last year's
woeful Boys and Girls, in which Prinze is Claire
Forlani's true love and an end credits sequence
features Jason Biggs (who has played Prinze's college
roommate in the rest of the film) living out his
fantasy of being trapped in a dressing room full of
farting supermodels.
Freddie Prinze, Jr. is well known for his teen and
college romantic comedies. In Head Over Heels, he's
graduated to twenty-something adulthood, sort of. The film
pairs him with Monica Potter (whom I'll get to in a
minute), and then piles on top of this cute-couple
plot a series of sex-and-fart jokes, involving a Great
Dane who likes to hump women, a little old lady with a
sex drive, and a group of prat-falling supermodels.
These supermodels must also endure extended poo-poo
encounters, by smell and actual contact. I suppose you
might chalk such humor up to taking pleasure in
bringing supermodels down to human level, but really,
it is a mightily unpleasant pleasure to take.
Head Over Heels is a next step in lowbrow
"teen"-aimed humor (and I use the term "teen"
euphemistically, like the marketers do) -- following
like American Pie, Scary Movie, Dude, Where's My
Car?, South Park, and MTV's outrageous
skater-comedy series Jackass -- a humor that prides
itself on extreme jokes, the more offensive and more
bodily-fluids-focused, the better. Here, as in the
teen comedies, the fluids tend to be excremental, but
because the characters have been out of high school
and even college for some time, they have jobs and
supposedly some sense of the working world. And so,
Prinze plays Jim Winston, a much-admired fashion
executive who becomes the object of desire for Amanda
Pierce (Potter). She appreciates fine objects, since
she works -- completely unbelievably -- restoring
Renaissance paintings at New York's Metropolitan
Museum. She's apparently so skilled that her boss lets
her make up a face to fill in on a smudgy Titian
masterpiece, but at the same time, she's so
unprofessional that she drinks coffee over this same
precious painting.
Amanda has an idea of the perfect guy, and when she
first spots Jim, he appears to be it. She first meets
him when the Great Dane he's walking assaults her, and
well, it's love at first sight. Later, she espies him
in his apartment, Rear Window-style, from her
apartment, which she shares with four supermodels,
airheaded Australian Candi (Sarah O'Hare), know-it-all
Jade (Shalom Harlow), sultry Russian Roxanna (Ivana
Milicevic), and practical-minded Holly (Tomiko
Fraser). Bored, as models in movies tend to be, these
models, who can have any men they want (men line up
each night outside their apartment door for the chance
to take them -- as a group -- to expensive dinners)
decide to help Amanda catch her chosen one.
Trouble brews when Amanda is sneaking a peek at Jim
one night and she sees him, apparently, savagely
murder a girl with a baseball bat. Amanda and the
models (who travel as kind of long-legged,
short-skirted, perfectly made-up posse) make it their
business to investigate Jim, which leads to many
awkward situations. While you're waiting for these
predictable episodes to unfold, it may occur to you
that Potter is familiar, even if you haven't seen her
in Con Air or Patch Adams. That's because she is
unnervingly like Julia Roberts, with similar vocal
inflections, mannerisms, and nose. She is a bit
shorter and she is blond, but somewhere along the
line, she absorbed a few too many of Robert's
signature tics.
The film's biggest surprise is that the models hold
their own and on occasion, they are quite funny
(Milicevic's line readings -- affecting an almost
Garbo-as-Ninotchka-esque self-parodic gravity -- are
especially droll). But this is small comfort. Director
Mark Waters, whose first feature, House of Yes
(starring Prinze and Parker Posey), was almost too
offbeat and challenging, has made a formula picture
with precious little new to offer. Plainly inspired by
How to Marry a Millionaire's proto-girl power theme
and The Philadelphia Story's madcap physical comedy,
Head Over Heels is in the end overwhelmed by its own
Adam Sandler-style doo-doo pranks.