Picks and Pans Review: One Night at McCool's
There's basically one joke in this comedy, and it quickly runs out of gas: While all the men are obsessed with bedding the vampy Jewel (Tyler), all she really wants to do is redecorate her boudoir in perfect shades of pink and purple. Tyler, her ample hips and bosom barely contained inside clingy little shifts, sashays through McCool's like a demented Martha Stewart, lusting after frilly curtains, gazing fondly at paint samples and speaking gushingly about the fountain she hopes to install in her living room.
Actually, it's not even her place to redecorate. The house she's staying in belongs to Randy (Dillon), a dense bartender in St. Louis whose misfortune it was to be picked up by Jewel late one night. Once in this temptress's sway, Randy finds himself involved in murder and burglary (Jewel really wants the DVD player that she knows is in that rich guy's house), two lines of work he had previously not considered. Jewel has a similarly deleterious effect on the other men in her life, including a hotshot lawyer (Reiser) and an upright cop (Goodman).
McCool's, which strives to be quirky (poor Reiser is called upon to don leather S&M gear), is one of those movies in which the plot is frantically busy but there's really nothing going on. The characters are all about as bright as a sack of bowling balls, and their dimness soon becomes wearing. Tyler makes like Melanie Griffith, cooing most of her lines in a breathless baby voice and batting her eyelids. She's lushly sexy but never quite gets a handle on what makes Jewel tick. Dillon long ago perfected the likable lug act he trots out here, while Goodman and Reiser huff and puff for naught. Douglas, as a greaser hit man, is dryly amusing. (R)
Bottom Line: This One Night seems to last forever
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