I walked into Over Her Dead Body knowing next to nothing about it, other than the generically lurid title that sounds like it might be the latest movie from Lindsay Lohan.
I stumbled out of the film in a daze, forgetting what I'd just seen as the movie blurred into a hundred other movies.
Over Her Dead Body might be better served if it were a bona fide train wreck. As is, the movie is almost remarkable in its unremarkableness, one of those bland, cookie-cutter comedies where everybody is either a second-tier celebrity or cast apparently because they resemble some other, more famous actor.
Paul Rudd is one of the more recognizable stars here, although he's mostly notable for playing second bananas, and you may not be able to quite place the face with the name. The rest of the cast includes someone who resembles a younger version of Susan Sarandon crossed with Joan Cusack or Mary-Louise Parker, and a woman who looks something like what Rene Russo looked like 25 years ago. There's also an actor who looks a lot like Jason Biggs and, on closer inspection, turns out to be Jason Biggs.
The biggest dose of star power (being, all things considered, better than a dose of the clap) and the titular dead body of Over Her Dead Body is supplied by Eva Longoria, who turns in a basic variation on her Desperate Housewives shtick, playing a spoiled, over-accessorized bitch who winds up crushed to death by an imperfect ice sculpture — an angel sans wings — on her wedding day. "Sad as I am," says the groom-left-standing-at-the-alter (Rudd), "I appreciate the irony."
One year later, Rudd still hasn't moved on, so his aggressively wacky sister (Lindsay Sloan, the Sarandon/Cusack/Parker clone) pushes him into seeing a psychic in order to achieve some sort of closure on the issue. Psychic-girl turns out to be a hottie played by Lake Bell (the big-boned redhead from TV shows such as Boston Legal and Surface), and sparks immediately ignite between her and Rudd, causing Longoria's jealous ghost (who could use a bit of closure herself) to do whatever it takes to come between them.
Despite the intriguing prospect of some human-poltergeist catfight materializing, Over Her Dead Body simply bubbles along in its own little hectare of romantic-comedy hell, a Ghost-meets-Mr. Woodcock gene-splice in which two competing characters (one living, one dead) squabble over a mutual object of desire. The requisite secondary characters abound, from the aforementioned wacky sister to the obligatory gay best friend (played by Biggs, whose participation here amounts to a variant on his American Pie routine — although instead of copulating with pastry, here he runs around a kitchen setting himself on fire).
The movie also includes the world's longest fart joke, several unnecessary confessions from minor characters we don't really care about and a pointless last-act crisis paving the way for the boy and girl to go into their inevitable final clinch.
The whole thing often feels considerably closer to a TV sitcom than a big-screen production, which shouldn't come as much of a shock considering the small-screen credentials of Longoria, Bell and several other cast and crew members — including director Jeff Lowell, best known as a producer on Spin City and a writer for Just Shoot Me. And with no end in sight for the writers' strike, maybe Over Her Dead Body will turn out to be just what the doctor ordered for all those increasingly frustrated viewers jonesing for a disposable TV-styled fix.
On the brighter side, Bell, whose cup size inexplicably seems to fluctuate from scene to scene, exhibits an appealingly earthy sensuality and a knack for goofy, loose-limbed slapstick that's usually a lot of fun to watch. She doesn't have much to work with here, and her chemistry with Rudd is negligible (the actors seem to have been chosen mainly because their eyes are an identical shade of hazel), but she's bound to eventually find a big-screen project worthy of her talent.
Beach Party
The Beach Theatre, that beacon of cinematic grooviness on St. Pete Beach, has gone Hi-Def, teaming up with Emerging Pictures for a series of state-of-the-art screenings like their popular La Scala opera series on Sunday evenings. Upcoming digital presentations include independent films such as The Rape of Europa, and a special, one-time-only concert by Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band on Feb. 2 (with proceeds going toward the theater's restoration). Sports fans can get in on the HD action, too, when the Beach presents the Super Bowl on Feb. 3, free of charge and in all its digital, big-screen glory.
Meanwhile, the theater's series of free kids' films is still going strong on Saturday mornings, and almost every Saturday evening you can catch a live cast performing to late-night showings of the perennial cult fave The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Feb. 16 is Zombie Night, by the way, when the Beach teams Rocky Horror with a 10 p.m. screening of Night of the Living Dead and invites audience members to come dressed in their finest zombie attire. The local band Funeral Daizies provides an appropriate soundtrack.
The Beach Theatre is located at 315 Corey Ave., St. Pete Beach, 727-360-6697, beachtheatre.com.
This article appears in Jan 30 – Feb 5, 2008.
