The Other Woman is
a light and amiable wish-fulfillment revenge comedy with all the tonal
mismanagement that pile-up of descriptors suggests. Getting off to a good
start, the film introduces us to a high-powered New York City lawyer (Cameron
Diaz) head-over-heels for her new rich, handsome boyfriend (Nikolaj
Coster-Waldau). He’s her first serious relationship in many years. Too bad,
then, that he’s married. When she finds out she’s understandably hurt, but not
as much as his wife (Leslie Mann) is. He doesn’t know they know, and certainly
doesn’t know they then spied on him and uncovered a second unsuspecting
mistress (Kate Upton). From there the three women team up to get revenge on
this no-good sleazeball. At first they play pranks, like putting a laxative in
his water or estrogen in his power shake. But they don’t just want him
humiliated. They want him to hurt. So they target his most vulnerable part: his
wallet.
Totally uninterested in making this a dark or biting comedy,
the screenplay by Melissa Stack finds fizzy complications that are treated as a
lark. This leads to some gross-out gags like a defecating dog or a man in a
fancy restaurant having an urgent bowel movement (what is it with this movie
and poop?) that are certainly gross and might even make you gag, but I didn’t
find them too funny. Okay, that second one was a little funny, but seems out of
place, because elsewhere the emotions of the women are triangulated for comedy
and light drama. Their common goal includes shifting desires and expectations
for each of them at different points. They’ve certainly become friends under
unusual circumstances, so it makes sense they wouldn’t always be on the same
page. The wife, especially, has her doubts. Sure, he was cheating, but she
wonders if that’s reason enough to throw away their marriage?
That’s an interesting question, or at least could be. But
Stack’s script isn’t interested in exploring that. It’s too busy alternating
between bubbly and goofy. Director Nick Cassavetes (of The Notebook and My Sister’s
Keeper) shoots the film glossily. Everything is brightly lit and gleaming.
The surroundings are as rich and white as the characters – big glass-covered
offices, spacious high-rise apartments, and gorgeous beach houses. But I
suppose that’s part of the wish-fulfillment of it all. Not only do we get to
watch three beautiful women plot against an awful chauvinist, but we also get
to see fancy clothes and nice architecture while they do it. Everyone’s so well
off they can drop everything and go to the Hamptons or the Bahamas on a
stakeout. Must be nice. I mean, aside from the whole finding out you’re all
being cheated on thing.
What keeps this sloppy script and sparkling studio airiness
watchable and even at times enjoyable is the strength of the cast. The three
women at the center of the plot hold it down with their likable chemistry and
funny personalities. They’re all clearly in their acting comfort zones, relaxed
and capable of wringing laughs out of the sometimes lame material. One of them
actually sells the old looking-through-the-wrong-end-of-binoculars sight gag.
That’s no small feat. Leslie Mann is appealing as a tightly wound housewife who
increasingly spirals into a manic panic over her husband’s infidelities before
finding the clarifying purpose of plotting revenge. Cameron Diaz is fizzy and
sarcastic, able to whip up a plan of action and have fun doing it. And Kate Upton
is awfully good at selling ditziness, even if her character remains only a
happy, curvaceous blank-slate. Seriously, what does she even do? Where does she
go when she’s not on screen? We’ll never know.
They aren’t exactly the second coming of 9 to 5, the
three-women-take-down-dumb-guy revenge comedy The Other Woman occasionally resembles, but that’s not entirely
their fault. Get these three characters in a scene together, trading lines with
one another, and it’s all pleasantly enjoyable. Mann’s flighty worry bounces
nicely off of Diaz’s wry cynicism and Upton’s airheaded charm proves a fine
glue to hold the trio together. But the movie has less to say about female
empowerment than you’d hope, keeping the ladies firmly in their stereotypes. The tone wobbles all the way to the end, mixing broad slapstick and blunt
innuendo right up to the climax in which the comeuppance we’ve been waiting for
is a bit too eagerly vindictive. The movie doesn’t seem to think very highly of
any of its characters, even the side characters like a small role for Nicki Minaj that dilutes the snap of her rap persona. That's a factor in the mishandled
mood and empty point of view - are we supposed to root for them or view it all at a satiric remove? - that make for a hard movie to embrace. I didn’t
mind it too much, laughing at times and smiling a few more, but it’s so slight
and forgettable it’ll probably play even better in the middle of a weekend
afternoon on TBS.
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