David Zucker used to bring us the throwaway comic genius of Airplane!, Police Squad and the Naked Gun movies. Today, hes directing dross like My Bosss Daughter.
It stars the gawp-mouthed Ashton Kutcher as Tom, a pencil-pusher with a Chicago publishing house whos eager to work his way into the good books of tyrant boss Jack Taylor (Terence Stamp) and, for that matter, his head-turning daughter Lisa (Tara Reid). He thinks his lucks in with the latter when she invites him to spend an evening at the family home – but, as it turns out, she only wants him to house-sit so she can go out and party.
What follows is one of the most excruciatingly bad comedy experiences of the year, as Tom battles to keep order in the face of a hyperactive pet owl, a pissing drug dealer (Michael Madsen), a visiting relative (Andy Richter) , a ticked-off employee (Molly Shannon), and an impromptu Carmen Electra wet t-shirt contest. Okay, so that last bit isnt actually all that bad but the rest of it truly is horrendous.
Kutchers pseudo Ben Stiller shtick is downright painful to watch (his natural arrogance makes it impossible for him to play shy and awkward, regardless of how often or how hard he tries), Stamp looks embarrassed to be there (he stops just short of playing his scenes with a hand up over his face in an attempt to prevent us from recognising him), and Reids character is barely in it enough to merit being the subject of the films title.
The screenplay, by Anger Management scribe David Dorfman, feels as if no level of thought has been put into it whatsoever. It strains to offend in some sort of ill-conceived attempt to be accepted as a peer of the Farrelly Brothers, but is little short of cringe-worthy in its clumsy desperation for such unattainable credibility. Simply put, the entire film is one big string of random, humourless, badly-delivered and totally witless events. The only question is, how does this sort of guff ever manage to see the light of day?