The Flintstones may not be a work of art, but surely it deserves better than the ice-cold reception it got from critics.
...I can do better than that. Let me start over.
The Flintstones is a brilliant work of art, like Michelangelo’s David, Beethoven’s ninth symphony, or Megaman 2. There are so many layers to it: It's live action imitating animation, the 1990s imitating the 1960s, the 20th century imitating the stone age, and John Goodman imitating a cartoon character imitating Jackie Gleason.
I'm amazed at how many prehistory-themed jokes they manage to wring out of this thing. Not just the obvious ones, like using a "number-two chisel" to take an exam, but things like Dann Florek's line, "I can't endorse this modernization if it means laying off all these workers. Some of them have been here since the beginning of time!" Or Fred's boss's use of the expression "until the poles freeze over." Or Fred's comment that he doesn't need a friend like Barney because "There's four thousand other people in this world!"
Who would think of making a joke about the size of the human population during the stone age? Did they have jokes like that in the cartoon?
There's even an offhand reference to human sacrifice that kind of shocked me in a PG movie, but maybe they figured that would be over kids' heads.
The casting is pitch-perfect, even though Rick Moranis doesn't have tiny black dots for eyes, and John Goodman wanders in and out of Fred's New York accent. (Or I guess that's a Bedrock accent. I don't know.) I had never heard of Elizabeth Perkins, but she looks and sounds exactly like Wilma Flintstone. Halle Berry appears as a made-up character called Sharon Stone, which is weird, but I guess the real Sharon Stone wasn't available. Or else they just couldn't think of a rock-related name that sounded like Halle Berry.
Harvey Korman plays a bird.
The plot is of decidedly secondary importance. Barney wants to repay Fred for having loaned him the money he needed to adopt Bamm Bamm, so he helps Fred cheat on an IQ test that determines which low-level quarry employee will be promoted to an executive job. (Since when is Barney smart enough to help Fred cheat on an IQ test?) But it turns out that the promotion is part of a scam by Sharon Stone and her lover to loot the company. That’s about it.
Oh, and the bad guy gets encased in concrete at the end and is clearly dead, though no one says so. That came as a surprise. They don't usually kill nonviolent villains in these movies.
Critics complained that the plot was too adult-oriented—meaning that it will alienate kids, not that it’s X-rated—and that’s certainly true. Embezzlement and office politics are not major concerns of child moviegoers. But we can’t forget that the cartoon was always intended to appeal to adults as well as kids. Just be grateful John Goodman didn’t do any cigarette tie-ins.
This movie depicts what might fairly be described as a worst-case scenario for the universe. Almighty God (Morgan Freeman) temporarily cedes control of the world, including his infinite supernatural powers and the responsibility for answering prayers, to the most self-centered, self-pitying idiot on the planet. He does this, apparently, for no other reason than to teach him a valuable lesson about—something.
Bruce Nolan (Jim Carrey) is a moderately successful local TV newsman in Buffalo, who lives in a handsomely appointed townhome with his beautiful girlfriend Grace (Jennifer Aniston), who is a kindergarten teacher or something, and their dog. In the early scenes, we discover that Bruce is mildly frustrated with his inability to advance in his career beyond the level of fluff pieces about cookie shops. He is also frustrated by his dog's tendency to relieve himself in the living room.
And that's about the extent of Bruce's woes, as far as we can discern. Nevertheless, he rapidly descends into despair, culminating in his discovery that smarmy Evan Baxter (Steve Carell) has beaten him out for a seat at the anchor desk. In Bruce's defense, the station makes the conspicuously poor decision to announce this staffing change seconds before Bruce goes on the air for a live broadcast from Niagara Falls, but Bruce's response to it—on live television—is so explosive and unhinged that we instantly lose all respect for him.
After being bodily ejected from his place of work, Bruce goes home and pours out his rage against God for allowing him to come to such unspeakable, undeserved misery. Surely this upper-middle-class newscaster who has been justly fired is cursed among men.
In the Old Testament, when the undeserving sufferer Job poured out his indignation against God, the Lord appeared to him in a whirlwind and reminded him what a hassle it is to control the universe, so mere mortals should give him a break. Apparently, he's decided that a lecture wasn't good enough this time, so he decides to give Bruce first-hand experience at wielding cosmic powers.
Bruce of course takes selfish advantage of his new omnipotence—otherwise there wouldn't be a movie—by giving himself an expensive sports car, a new wardrobe, and super lovemaking skills, as well as returning to the network to oust Evan from the coveted anchorman job. But many of his petty miracles (like using a divine breeze to lift a lady's skirt, or materializing marijuana in a rival network's news van) are downright cruel. Aren't we supposed to find this character relatable? Look, I'm not pretending to be a saint, but if I had superpowers, I honestly don't think it would occur to me to frame somebody for drug possession.
Maybe the idea is that, if you were a godlike being, the morals of us lowly creatures just wouldn't matter to you anymore. But Bruce knows his omnipotence is temporary, so you'd think he'd have some residual human qualms—and anyway, the movie never suggests any deeper explanation of his behavior than the fact that he's an ass.
There's nothing inherently wrong with an unsympathetic comedy protagonist. George Costanza is proof enough of that. But if I'm not supposed to like this guy, what reaction am I supposed to have? The movie is obviously meant to be heartwarming on some level, so shouldn't the hero be someone the audience has a shred of sympathy for? After he uses his divine powers to aggrandize himself at the expense of his relationship, Jennifer Aniston leaves him, and his desire to win her back gives him a conventional goal for the final act of the movie. But why the hell should she go back to him? And why should we want her to? And what possessed God to leave the universe in the hands of this psychopath in the first place?
The story becomes so ludicrous, with Bruce causing impossible things to happen left and right, that it was necessary for the people of Buffalo to become oblivious cartoon characters. It reminds me of Pinky and the Brain, where they eventually gave up on offering any explanation for why people don't realize that the Brain is a mouse. But Pinky and the Brain never asked you to take it seriously, so it was OK. Here, we've got a movie about a jerk surrounded by clueless idiots who can't tell that the laws of the universe have been suspended, and we're apparently supposed to care what happens to any of them.
To give blame where it's due, I don't think Jim Carrey's performance is at fault. Carrey was definitely on his way down from the peak of stardom by 2003, and this was probably the first time most people realized it. A few years later, he would be starring in tiresome retreads like Yes Man and total nonsense like The Number 23, but he's fine here. After Bruce's climactic redemption, he becomes warmer and fuzzier than we're used to seeing him, and maybe they would have been better off just going the PG route for the whole film.
After all, isn't this thing supposed to appeal to religious people, or families? There's nothing in it to suggest that it was intended as subversive or antireligious, and it ends on a very aw-shucks note. But then what was with the creepy divinely-enhanced sex scene? It's nothing explicit, but you wouldn't want to watch it in front of your mother.
Overall, the movie reminds me of the 2000 version of Bedazzled, but I liked that movie a lot better. Maybe it was because Bedazzled kept the Sunday school schmaltz down to a much duller roar, or maybe it was because Brendan Fraser's character was more loser and less megalomaniac. Interestingly, that movie got exactly the same Rotten Tomatoes score as this one.
But as little good as I have to say about Bruce Almighty, I did find it watchable. I think what really sums this one up for me is that, when I first saw it, the only gag that made me laugh out loud was this:
(Okay, turn it off. Just the "Yahweh" part. Turn it off.)
It's a two-second reference to a TV ad campaign that was ubiquitous at the time but totally forgotten today. And you could criticize the movie for being so shallow and ephemeral, but you know, they didn't think they were making a classic. There are a lot of movies that didn't make me laugh even once. And there are movies (like the 2007 sequel to this film) that I couldn't even sit through.
I guess I have only myself to blame for rewatching movies that have earned their place in obscurity. Nobody put a gun to my head and made me watch Bruce Almighty, let alone write a long, detailed review of it on the internet. What am I doing with my life, anyway? What kind of fool watches fifteen-year-old bad movies and then writes about them?
Hey, I think I'll review the Flintstones movie next!
