Film Review: Father Figures

Lawrence Sher’s directorial debut starring Owen Wilson (Wonder, No Escape) and Ed Helms (The Hangover, Captain Underpants) as twin brothers Kyle and Peter Reynolds hit cinema screens last week. After finding out that their mother Helen, played by Glenn Close (The Girl with all the Gifts, Fatal Attraction), does not know the true identity of their father, the twins embark on ‘Mission: Who’s Ya Daddy’ which takes them from one State to another as Kyle and Peter are rejected by each cameo-making potential father. With tempers heating up as the search develops, Kyle – a man who wears white leather jackets, leads a ‘spiritual life,’ and has earned his (not so big) fortune from having his face printed onto bottles of hot sauce – and Peter – a divorced physician who chose the profession based on his mother’s lies of his supposed ‘dad’ doing the same job, and who would rather be at home watching Law & Order than attending his mum’s wedding – begin to thrash out their differences and resentments of each other, and by the end of the film learn the true meaning of family…or maybe not.

Sometimes in life expectations must be realistic, which means most of the time they need to be lowered. Also, sometimes in life it is advisable to not have any hopes for a film at all. How can you be disappointed if you expect nothing? Somehow, Father Figures will fall short of whatever hope, or no hope, is given to it beforehand. The plot is not exactly original, but that is not a certain criticism. Mamma Mia used a similar formula to a relatively good standard. This gender-reversed, music-less Papa Mia instead attempts to use several examples of hijinks as plot developments and comedic set-pieces. Neither of which often make any sense nor do the jokes often land.

If, though, this plot is a reincarnation of other similar movies, why does the film tank so thunderously? A simple answer which becomes apparent no more than five minutes into the 113-minute feature: character. The two leads are not at all relatable or likeable, Kyle is a self-absorbed, misogynistic, predatory being who Owen Wilson does no favours for throughout his severely exaggerated depiction of the hot-sauce-face man. Whereas Peter has no comedic sensibility whatsoever. In fact, his damned relationship with his son; his fixation with Law & Order is not at all funny but instead quite concerning. Writer Justin Malem (Office Christmas Party) has not created two likeable characters here, nor two that an audience can empathise with. As the film follows the twins around the states, the jokes repeat themselves. Oh yes let’s have a gross-out remark about their mother’s sexual deviance. Now Owen, your turn, say something about your remarkable number of ‘hook-ups.’ Now you Ed, say how bad your life is – despite saving people’s lives by finding cancer in their bodies. Okay one more thing guys, do something either illegal or disgusting, or both! Great work guys!

This pattern is repeated at least three times in the film, and instead of raising shouts of hysterical laughter, or empathetic ‘awwww’s’ at these poor father-less men, instead, raises the question of who is this aimed at? What is the target audience here? At a time of year when films such as The Shape of Water, I, Tonya, Lady Bird are all being released, what is the aim of this coming out now? Potentially some comic-relief to go up against otherwise mostly dark and serious ‘Oscar films.’ Or to perhaps hopefully be released unnoticed and float out of the box office drain quietly without too much fuss? The rumours of the film having to be re-shot due to poor test screenings cannot be far away from being a certainty (and how much worse can the test screenings have been?).

As well as a mangled plot and shocking character traits, the dialogue of the screenplay is ear-scrapingly bad. So much so that at the end of the third act, a character actually has to say, ‘Oh my god, this just got really sad,’ just in case you missed it. The casual deliverance of misogynist and borderline-racist jokes is offensive in itself, and apparently, Owen Wilson, a forty-nine-year-old man, urinating on a child is now a comedic set piece. Really? There is also a twist at the start of the third act, which, if you did not see coming then you were either asleep or you had simply left, both of which are more likely than finding any humour in this film. Pick from a hat of innumerable reasons as to why this film does not work, but the only saving grace? At least it doesn’t have Pierce Brosnan singing in it.

Trailer