Although he's in motion from the moment the movie begins, the slightly flabby hero of Run Fatboy Run doesn't really go anywhere. Dennis (Simon Pegg) is the sort of guy who never sees anything through to the end, and even when he seems to be scurrying about in all directions, it's only the illusion of motion as he races away from life.
We first meet Dennis in the midst of a panic attack on the eve of his marriage to sweetly charming Libby (Thandie Newton) and then watch as he bolts like a frightened rabbit, sprinting away from love and lifelong commitment as bouncy Brit rock blares on the soundtrack. Flash forward five years, and our boy is still running, albeit with a bit more flesh around the middle ("I'm not fat," he insists, "I'm just unfit.") and in the dingy uniform of a small-time security guard chasing down trannie shoplifters. Long-suffering ex-fiancée Libby has moved on, meanwhile, even though (this being at root a fairly traditional rom-com) it's abundantly clear that both of them still only have eyes for each other.
Before the movie brings its lovebirds back together, however, it must create some conflict to keep them apart — hence Libby's impossibly perfect new boyfriend (Hank Azaria), a handsome businessman with a passion for running marathons. This naturally prompts Dennis to enter a 26-mile charity run, an act designed to show both ex-girlfriend and audience that he's a mature, responsible adult. Mostly, though, it's an excuse to gawk at our pale and hopelessly out-of-shape hero looking dopey in skimpy shorts, contorting his body into absurd positions, adjusting his crotch and gasping for breath.
Run Fatboy Run was written by two extremely funny guys, Pegg (Hot Fuzz, Shaun of the Dead) and Michael Ian Black (MTV's The State and Comedy Central's Stella), and although it's not a bad movie per se, it's more than a bit disappointing considering the talent involved. The film glides along on a mildly quirky, Full Monty-esque vibe that gets some decent mileage from its London setting and colorful secondary characters, notably Dennis' zonked-out slacker pal (Dylan Moran) and his Buddha-like Indian landlord (Harish Patel). That said, the movie is certainly not above the occasional gross-out gag, not excluding butt shots, copious amounts of fluid gushing from popped foot blisters or even the stray fart joke.
The director here is David Schwimmer, the ex-Friends star making his behind-the-camera debut, and although there are no major errors in judgment, neither does much originality or personal style shine through. Run Fatboy Run proceeds apace, amiably but undistinguished, winding up pretty much how and where we expect it to, but offering just enough fun to make getting there enjoyable.
There's still more running going on in the multiplexes this week, although not of the sort you're probably expecting. Running numbers is the game in 21, a blander Ocean's 11 meets Good Will Hunting, with an attractive but mostly forgettable young cast and directed by the guy who brought us Legally Blonde and Monster-in-Law. Run Fatboy Run may not make much of an impression, but 21 is practically invisible.
Jim Sturgess stars as Ben, a brilliant but dirt-poor MIT student who's got the grades but lacks the cash to realize his dream of attending Harvard Med. Enter a shady professor (Kevin Spacey) and his cabal of whiz kids, all eager to have Ben join them in a card-counting scheme to take Vegas for millions. As in Run Fatboy Run, our hero's logical facilities decrease in direct proportion to his desire for a woman's affections, and it's less the lure of cash than the foxy blonde (Kate Bosworth) that ultimately leads Ben into temptation.
21 is an odd and not particularly satisfying kettle of fish, loosely based on a true story but giving off only the vaguest whiff of anything resembling authenticity. Visually, the movie is a bit drab and dark, a look probably designed to make us think something serious is going on, but that's curiously at odds with a basically jaunty sensibility that seems to aim for (but never quite achieves) the groovy swagger of the Ocean's movies. Director Robert Luketic periodically inserts slick CGI effects to juice up the dry math of the kids explaining how they're working the system, but it's all a bit cheesy and doesn't help make sense of what's happening.
Luketic doesn't ever manage to communicate the kids' system very coherently, nor with much energy, and 21 consequently winds up feeling a little like a heist movie without a heist. For that matter, it's neither clear when or how Ben crosses the line into actually enjoying the thrill of the con, nor is there much excitement generated when the casino's crusty old analyst (Laurence Fishburne) finally gets wise to him. When in doubt, the filmmakers simply throw in another shot of giant blackjack chips flipping through space or more images of Ben and his crew staring at cards in real time as other gamblers zip around them cluelessly in fast motion.
Fishburne is pretty good here, and Spacey, who also produced, is fun to watch as yet another one of those deliciously insidious characters he plays so well. But neither of these reliable old hands is enough to save the movie. Ben rises, falls and then does a bit more rising by way of a half-hearted coda, but by that time, 21 is simply running on fumes.
This article appears in Mar 26 – Apr 1, 2008.