Dinner for Schmucks

I hated Dinner for Schmucks.  Hated it, hated it, hated it.  The movie’s a fraud.

Here’s the deal.  Paul Rudd is career-oriented guy on the way up.  This means, of course, that by the end he’ll throw it all away and only then be ready for true love because he’s in a romantic comedy.  Steve Carrel is an idiot.  I’m talking about a deeply, deeply stupid man.  For Rudd to ascend to the next rung on the socioeconomic ladder, he must find an idiot and bring him to the titular dinner, where rich people mock idiots for their amusement.  Because that’s the kind of thing rich people do because they’re in a romantic comedy.

Ok so far.  We know where this will go: Carrel will reveal himself to be a font of wisdom and courage, Rudd will find his moral compass and get the girl, and we’ll all feel better about ourselves because the film will confirm our suspicion that we aren’t rich because we aren’t morally bankrupt. 

But here’s the underlying structural problem of the film:  it wants us to sit in judgment on those who laugh at the stupid, but it devotes almost all of its running time to laughing at the stupid.  It’s like Dinner for Schmucks is saying, “They can’t laugh at dumb people, because it’s morally wrong.  We, however, can laugh all we want because, well, because we paid our money, godammit, and we want comedy.”

I didn’t laugh.  I just felt alternately sorry for and angry with everyone involved in this film.  How stupid do you have to be read this script and not see its profound hypocrisy?