Around 1940, New Yorker staff writer Joe Mitchell meets Joe Gould, a Greenwich Village character who cadges meals, drinks, and contributions to the Joe Gould Fund and who is writing a ... See full summary »
Peter Sanderson is a divorced, straight-laced, uptight attorney who still loves his ex-wife and can't figure out what he did wrong to make her leave him. However, Peter's trying to move on, and he's smitten with a brainy, bombshell barrister he's been chatting with online. However, when she comes to his house for their first face-to-face, she isn't refined, isn't Ivy League, and isn't even a lawyer. Instead, it's Charlene, a prison escapee who's proclaiming her innocence and wants Peter to help her clear her name. But Peter wants nothing to do with her, prompting the loud and shocking Charlene to turn Peter's perfectly ordered life upside down, jeopardizing his effort to get back with his wife and woo a billion dollar client. Written by
Sujit R. Varma
Producers wanted the "Ebonics" that was spoken in the movie to be current and relevant to the time period in which the movie was released. This proved to be difficult as words take on different meaning to become Ebonics almost everyday. (Whatever words they used during filming might not have been in circulation by the time the film was released.) In order to play it safe, some of the Ebonics spoken in the movie was made up by the actors on the spot. See more »
When Peter is preparing to meet Charlene for the first time, he opens the glass refrigerator door and the reflections of the cameraman and another man can be seen. See more »
You messed with the wrong W.A.S.P. bitch.
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People tend to cut comedies lots of slack as long as they make us laugh. They can be blasphemous, tasteless, lowbrow, highbrow, moronic, offensive, racist, subversive, disgusting, pretentious, pointless, shallow, blatantly left-wing, blatantly right-wing, vulgar, cruel, preachy, you name it -- if they make us laugh our butts off, we'll forgive them any and all of these sins. If they just aren't funny, like this turkey, that's when we start noticing all the bad stuff.
And there is plenty of bad stuff, believe me, starting with Steve Martin, who exhausted his tiny bag of comedic tricks more than twenty years ago and who has been coasting along ever since. I think this movie is where he finally coasts to a dead stop. Please, Hollywood, just leave him there.
And then there's the story. Bringing Down the House is a clash-of-cultures movie evidently written by people who don't have a clue about either of the cultures involved in the clash. The result is a bunch of crudely drawn caricatures of nonexistent social types. Nobody thinks white people or black people are anything like this, and it is insulting to have to sit through a movie made by people who think we do.
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