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Connie and Carla (2004) Universal Pictures 1 hr. 38 mins. Starring: Nia Vardalos, Toni Collette, David Duchovny, Robert John Burke, Debbie Reynolds Directed by: Michael Lembeck Connie and Carla Rating:  
E-MAIL FRANK OCHIENG Nia Vardalos came on like gangbusters when her robust ethnic romantic comedy My Big Fat Greek Wedding took audiences by storm. This wily actress was a breath of fresh air whose exuberant spunk and injection of cockeyed confidence helped propel her name on the tip of people’s tongues with a chipper chick flick that captured her funky spirit. Well, Vardalos still tries to go this route once again as a beloved sass with a bubbly outlook but the derivative material she’s asked to spice up just doesn’t keep up with her frothy stamina. In director Michael Lembeck’s disjointed gender-bender musical comedy Connie and Carla, the mediocrity oozes out much like the intolerable sounds from a rusty trumpet. With a scattershot script and nary an original or fresh idea in sight, Connie and Carla is an empty-headed drag of a buddy-buddy feminine flick that’s too cutesy and routinely bland for its own good. No doubt the inspired nuttiness behind the staid Connie and Carla tries to recall the classic recollections of the treasured films it’s awkwardly ripping off such as Some Like It Hot and Victor/Victoria, etc. Lembeck and his star Vardalos valiantly try to instill some feel good wackiness into this gently vapid venture. But the movie is unimaginative and disposable to even realize its potential as a lightweight farce in the satirical sense of paying homage to the raucous creativity of filmmakers Billy Wilder and/or Blake Edwards. Vardalos, in particular, seems to be desperately winking to the audience as if to suggest we automatically buy her predictable and quirky on-the-run romp as a heavenly hoot. However, Connie and Carla feels so recycled and conventional that one is instinctively indifferent to the kooky concoction it mixes up in a hollow and dissolving manner. Chalk this one up to a potential Vardalos lackluster effort entitled My Big Fat Drag Queen Disappointment. Vardalos and Toni Collette (Muriel’s Wedding, The Sixth Sense, Shaft) star as the title characters Connie and Carla, Chicago-based lounge singers that waste away in oblivion by playing dank venues. Both women are avid enthusiasts of dinner theaters and show tunes are etched in their thin blood. The pair of close pals enjoyed performing and the on-going singing gigs will have to fit the bill for the meantime. Soon, Connie and Carla will depart their cozy surroundings without any choice in the matter as a result of some murderous occurrence they accidentally stumble upon. When a local drug lord (Robert John Burke) commits a murder against the diva duo’s boss while they are witnesses to this homicidal deed, the entertainers immediately flee the scene from the Windy City. In protecting their livelihood from the crazed pusherman, Connie and Carla hastily take their act on the road as they head west. Appropriately, the Ann Miller wannabes end up in the off-kilter utopia of West Hollywood. There, the twosome will try to resurrect their lounge show routine and hope to remain inconspicuous in the process. Unfortunately, West Hollywood is not known for their dinner theater accommodations. Hence, the songbirds must come up with another way to partake in the familiar realm of song and dance. Feeling the pressure mounting, Connie comes up with a quick concept: why not pose as drag queens and develop their craft in a nightclub? It may not be what they had in mind when they abruptly left Chicago but it should do the trick for the time being. As Connie and Carla perfect their stage presence and become skilled as talented showstoppers, the “women masquerading as men in drag who return are dressing up as women” end up being a crowd-pleasing sensation. Of course this is rather clumsy of them to shine a spotlight on themselves especially when they’re supposed to be keeping a low profile from the riff raffish element they escaped from the Midwest. Also adding to the confusion is the fact that Connie has the hot feeling for Jeff (David Duchovny), a straight guy who’s a brother of one of working drag queens in the nightclub. Naturally Connie cannot disclose her real identity as a female to Jeff without compromising the safety of her and Carla. And so the high jinks ensue in typical madcap fashion. See Connie and Carla look over their dainty shoulders as they embrace the fame they always wanted but haplessly duck and dodge the attention with the bad guys out to skin their hides. See poor Jeff trying to shoo off Connie’s admiration for him as a presumed “gay guy” without realizing he/she’s an attractive woman underneath with whom he probably would fall for if it weren’t for the twisted circumstances. See the chaotic kookiness of inquisitive mobsters and hammy musical numbers that lumber about in a numbing stance. See the usual sight gags and in-house jokes about the peculiarities of the L.A. lifestyle. See the flamboyance of drag queens strut their stuff and come to the realization that they aren’t necessarily the oddball deviants to laugh at—remember, they’re human and have a need to exist as well! Nia Vardolas and Toni Collette do conjure up some witty moments as the cabaret cuties caught up in a fish-out-of-water scenario. However, the shoddy script—written by the film’s star Vardolas—has difficulty balancing its seesaw priorities by serving up a half-hearted session of goofy charm while attacking the romantic poignancy with a choppy approach. The message in Connie and Carla is simple and clear in that people should be who they are in terms of being true to themselves. This musical misfire had its ambitious mode in tact but the slight and deflating heft of this offering doesn’t quite gel enough to elevate Connie and Carla beyond its rudimentary boundaries. If only there was a shrewd and audacious tone to this unpolished comedy, Connie and Carla would have benefited from being a bouncy vehicle that was considered thoroughly wry and challenging. But the movie doesn’t have the momentum to be shocking or subversive because the transparent gimmick of using drag queens and hokey musical scores as a prolonged punchline takes away from what could have been a solid and sincere look at a misunderstood subculture of non-mainstream entertainers. Plus, the demanding need for tolerance in how drag queens (or struggling obscure lounge singers for that matter) perform and how they are viewed could have been exploited for legitimate laughs. Instead, we’re treated to a lukewarm dud that squanders its opportunity for durable, dandy insights. Lembeck’s questionable direction is utterly incoherent as he allows his players to prance around in all their frenzied madness without attaching a concrete purpose to the method of this very same madness. Connie and Carla may be on the run in search of stardom and love but ladies—whatever you decide to do in the inevitable sequel to this meager musical mishap, we implore you to please keep on running. Click here to comment on this review or post your own thoughts. Frank Ochieng © TheWorldJournal.com |
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