Great movie titles, like boyfriends, should be chosen carefully. Something like “Gone Baby Gone,” was catchy and apt, and I enjoyed tagging any sentence I could with that line for months.
Friend: Do you know where Matt is?
Me: Oh, he’s gone, baby, gone.
But why directors think it’s a good idea to give movies ridiculous names is beyond me. Bad movie titles could be its own blog topic, so I’m gonna focus on just one: “Run Fat Boy Run,” a movie out this week that despite its unfortunate title, was a smash in Great Britain.
David Schwimmer, who played the goofy paleontologist Ross from “Friends,” makes his directorial debut with this lowbrow comedy. To recount the plot would be embarrassing, but suffice it to say, there’s a guy and he runs and sweats a lot—for love. In an interview in The Boston Globe, Thandie Newton, who stars in the movie, said of Schwimmer, “he bleeds with intellect.” Yeah, clearly.
In his own words, Schwimmer makes it sound like he makes intelligent films. “I believe that films are dumbing down in general,” he said. “They play to the lowest common denominator, rather than giving the audience enough credit for their intelligence.” Schwimmer, you just directed a movie called “Run Fat Boy Run,” and you’re throwing stones? He adds,”I can’t believe, especially in the last couple of years, the big successful comedies are so…base, in terms of their humor and their language…Instead of coming up with really strong, character-driven comedy, and intelligent joke writing—like, smart joke writing—it’s all about…really, it’s back to Greek comedy. It’s scatological humor.”
True, I have not seen the movie, so I can’t confirm that it’s as lame as I suspect. But glancing at the first two reviews I came across, they confirm my suspicions. The movie “doesn’t provide a marathon of laughs,” says Daniel Kimmel at the Worcester Telegram & Gazette. “It doesn’t even sprint to a few good chuckles. It runs out of steam—and you’ll likely run out of interest—long before the finish line.”
Wesley Morris of The Boston Globe, who incidentally, was not the Globe staffer who interviewed Schwimmer, gave it one star and writes, “What can you say about a movie that features both the blinding loveliness of Thandie Newton and the sight of a man soaked in the contents of a giant foot blister? Stay home.”
I’d wager that even if you wanted to see this movie, despite the less than stellar reviews, by the time you made it to the theater it’d be gone, baby, gone.