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Review By: Sal - 7/19/05
The last movie I saw
Vince Vaughn in was Mr. & Mrs. Smith, (a surprisingly enjoyable flick,
by the way) which left me wanting more. Since his tour-de-force in
Dodgeball, I’ve been waiting to see another film where Vaughn manages
to shine through, hilariously. Aided by Owen Wilson, I can safely say
I’ve found that gem. As a college graduate who is currently surrounded
by those caught up in the matrimonial fever, I can somewhat relate to
the verbose, carefree (“We’re young, but not that young,”) bachelor
types that Vaughn and Wilson embody.
The story is the standard formulaic comedy set in a “fresh, new”
setting. I say “formulaic,” because quite simply, the plot is not
what’s important, here. These cookie-cutter stories are vehicles to
allow the stars of the film to shine as bright as they can. Our two
stars, Jeremy Grey (Vaughn) and John Beckwith (Wilson), play two best
friends working together in something like a legal firm (this is one of
those negligible plot points) and spend the majority of their time and
money “crashing” weddings. They are a veritable pair of wedding
pioneers, crashing weddings of all cultures and varieties, each with
terribly un-subtle handles, used to sneak under the radar. Here’s where
the Hollywood plot of the summer kicks into high-gear, when we learn
the two crashers’ master plan for getting into these weddings, to quote
Vaughn: “Close on some ass.”
Standard “getting laid” rules apply, ladies and gentlemen. Grey and
Beckwith (as well as the male half of the audience) enjoy a montage of
success, followed by what is expected to be the “wedding of the
century,” the marriage of a top-ranking presidential candidate’s
daughter. Christopher Walken is a pleasant surprise as the sailing
enthusiast politician, though his range, talent, and overall
spooktacular nature are not utilized to their fullest potential. Still,
Walken manages to take what the credits regard as a character unworthy
of a first name, and turn him into more than the standard Shakespearean
blocking-father figure.
The duo end up at the senator’s weekend pad, and the two con-artists’
paths diverge to the old one-is-in-love and the
one-is-tied-to-a-bedpost story we’re all so familiar with. Wilson
enjoys giving the lady of his choice’s fiancé (played adorably by
Rachel McAdams) eye-drops, which end up giving him an expected case of
the thunder runs and 24 hour fits of heaving, while Vaughn ends up
sexually tortured by his creepily-adorable girlfriend (played
frighteningly well by Isla Fisher). Hilarity expectantly ensues, and
the two have to make life-altering decisions about who they are and
what they want out of life.
The real deviation from the norm is the age of the two actors. This
film could have easily been given to Jason Biggs and James Van Der Beek
and been slapped another teen sex comedy, and we would have all given
it a big, stupid, smiling review, and Ebert wouldn’t have seen it and
would have written a review about it anyway. However, Wilson and Vaughn
give this film an odd sense of inevitability that you cannot have with
a young cast. True, the two behave like twenty year-olds, but the
reality is, the two are in their mid-thirties and it’s obvious. Wilson
in particular shares knowing glances at the audience, almost searching
for approval for what he’s doing. Ultimately, his search for ass has
left him unfulfilled and feeling just a bit childish. Vaughn learns a
lesson too, but it’s much more introspective for the Beckwith
character, which Owen Wilson really drives home. Even if it isn’t
there, the two suggest Wedding Crashers is about more than “closing
ass” and getting the girl. It’s about self-recognition, about realizing
that you’re an adult, and what that means. It could also be about
fulfilling your dreams and making a compromise, that being a grown-up
doesn’t mean the party’s over, it’s just a smaller party. Then again,
it could be all about the tit-shots. But who am I to judge? I’m still
pretty young. But as Wilson pointed out, and what Faber and Fisher
might have wanted me to understand, is that I’m not that young anymore.
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