Underrated is a relative term, and probably nobody, certainly not this writer, would argue that Chris Koch’s A Guy Thing isn’t a bit goofy and kind of lame in lots of little ways; but it has its own distinctive charm that has been much overlooked. When the film emerged without much fanfare in 2003, it was into a corner of the movie marketplace dominated by brainlessly “outrageous” retrogressive and mean-spirited “boys-will-be-boys” humor and earnest romantic schmaltz. Ignoring these opposing poles, the film is instead a warm-hearted romcom, more focused on the male protagonist than most, that contrives to have its cake and eat it, while making a few gentle points along the way.
The movie has a relaxed, modest indie charm and with the benefit of hindsight is a thoroughly Gen X, post-Kevin Smith piece of work. The film’s unassuming appeal is embodied in its likeably middle-of-the-road-alternative soundtrack; the tone is set from the start by the lounge/kitsch/rockabilly-ish Buddy Scott trio, who appear several times, but in addition Mark Mothersbaugh’s warm score is augmented by tracks by Wilco, the Shins, Eels etc. The cast, too is a classic, gently-alternative ensemble; and might as well say it now – if you can’t stand Jason Lee, Julia Stiles or Selma Blair then it’s probably best not to bother, as they are really the heart of the movie, though ably assisted by an array of relatively well-known faces.
Though resolutely not determined to offend, the movie isn’t squeaky clean either and does have some crossover with the more crass Gen X-and-a-half cinema of its time. It’s nothing like as self-consciously crude as many of its semi-peers, but Koch doesn’t shy away from bad language or what the industry likes to call “sex references” when needed, which pays off because it means that, childish though it sounds, Jason Lee shouting “I can’t believe those fuckers sold me dirty underwear!” is far funnier than it would be in a more stupid movie. Koch also gets far more comedy mileage than he probably should out of a predictably excruciating drugstore “crab medicine” routine and some pot-laced gravy; it’s not Citizen Kane, but then it isn’t supposed to be. The most curious example of the film blending with its putrid-movie-zeitgeist is that the tune that establishes A Guy Thing’s easy charm as it plays over the opening credits is Eels’ “Mr E’s Beautiful Blues,” which had previously featured in the execrable Road Trip. Given the track’s dubious recent pedigree it’s a strange choice, but A Guy Thing needs and tonally benefits from it more than Road Trip did, and if you can dispel the specter of Tom Green, it fits in nicely with Director of Photography Robbie Greenberg’s crisp, sunny but down-to-earth portrait of Seattle.
The plot, a kind of updated screwball farce, is pretty basic but leaves plenty of room for its comic set pieces. Paul (Jason Lee) is an advertising executive in his early 30s who’s about to be married to Karen (Selma Blair,) the daughter of his intimidating boss Ken (James Brolin). After a mildly debauched bachelor party, Paul mistakenly believes that he has had a sexual encounter with accident-prone tiki dancer Becky (Julia Stiles) and tries to cover his tracks before Karen finds out. Things become complicated when it turns out that Becky is Karen’s cousin who has a jealous psycho ex, Ray (Lochlyn Munro), who also happens to be a cop. There are a variety of typical wedding-comedy happenings; dance lessons, a rehearsal dinner, mismatched in-laws, disapproving ministers etc., all of which have to be negotiated by Paul while also attempting to keep his encounter with Becky quiet, despite the vengeful Ray’s photographic evidence, a bad case of crabs etc, etc. As the story progresses, Paul is disturbed when his friends and acquaintances – up to and including his future father-in-law – shrug off the presumed infidelity as an insignificant “guy thing” and is fully relieved to find that nothing happened. As his wedding day approaches though, he realizes that his attraction to Becky and her chaotic life is a symptom of deeper misgivings about his relationship with Karen.
The film is of course a comedy, and if you’re in the mood it’s pretty funny in its silly way. Jason Lee and Julia Styles have a very appealing chemistry onscreen, but – which is nice – so do Lee and Selma Blair – and one of the film’s unexpected virtues is that Karen isn’t ever painted as unreasonable or villainous, even in the daydream sequences where Paul pictures her violent reaction to his non-infidelity. The relationship between Paul and Becky is sweet and charming, more a romantic friendship than a passionate attraction, and Becky’s ever-changing employment history makes a nice contrast with Paul’s safe, standard-issue career trajectory and life choices without laboring the point too much. It’s funny in itself to see a former professional skateboarder being so convincingly square-ish and protesting too much with lines like “I listen to bands, I wear on-the-edge clothing.” For Jason Lee fans it’s one of the better roles in his uneven movie career, up there with Brodie Bruce and Jeff Bebe, rather than Dave of Alvin and the Chipmunks.
The supporting cast is very good too; Shawn Hatosy as Paul’s scathing best friend Jim is funny and believable and the two sets of in-laws are equally likeable. Karen’s wealthy, privileged parents Ken and Sandra (James Brolin and Diana Scarwid) and Paul’s more down-to-earth mother Dorothy (Julie Hagerty) and her John Wayne-obsessed, pants salesman partner Buck (David Koechner) all border on caricature, but though broad, they are, like Larry Miller’s disapproving minister, drawn so sympathetically by the actors that the overall effect is charming rather than patience-testingly stupid. Thomas Lennon has the thankless task of playing Paul’s suave older brother Pete, who spends most of his scenes wetly eulogizing over his brother’s wife-to-be, but he manages to pull it off despite a denouement that pushes wishful thinking beyond the point of credibility.
The climax of the movie comes, naturally, with the wedding where Paul is – by this point predictably – the only person in the church who can think of anything to say when asked for reasons why the couple shouldn’t marry. It’s a nice speech that thankfully isn’t a declaration of love or even an anguished hand-wringing elegy about the lack of love, but is instead a rueful recognition that the easiest choices may not be the best and that possibly love isn’t all you need after all; perhaps over-earnest. The problem this gives the filmmakers is that there is no way known to humanity to make a jilted-at-the-altar scene a purely positive, happy one, so rather than leave Karen as the loser, the script has big brother Pete step up to save the day; it turns out the pair’s mutual affection in the previous scene was a manifestation of exactly the kind of deeper connection that Paul and Karen lack. Ho-hum, they almost get away with it, just because Blair and Lennon are so likeable, but it’s the point at which the viewer can suddenly feel the movie trying to be uplifting.
Alternate endings are a welcome extra for home viewing, but they are rarely an indicator of a confident piece of work and of A Guy Thing has several of them. None is 100% satisfying, but the best by far is a low-key one where, after the non-wedding, Paul sits alone in the church until Becky, having left her purse behind, returns and they walk off together into Seattle, just talking, without any kind of an amorous crescendo. Presumably it was just too quiet and bathetic for test audiences, but it feels like it’s spiritually the right denouement for a movie that basically just wants everyone to be friends. Something more romantic was required however, so instead we get something like the expected sentimental climax, even if – thankfully – the kiss-with-cheering-crowd-of-onlookers turns out to be in Paul’s imagination; ah well, it’s a nice ending too.
Overall, the strong points of A Guy Thing; its cast, its warm-hearted humor and its pacing – it swings along happily with no real lulls – easily win out over its moments of schmaltz, obvious-but-gentle moralizing, occasionally lame gags and ultimate implausibility. That last flaw is almost a virtue in itself, as Koch’s desire to see the good in almost every character and leave them all happy imparts the desired feelgood quality, even at its most eye-rolling. At the time, A Guy Thing seemed to fall between several stalls and even its promotional material hints at a lack of confidence about how to market it; the extremely lacklustre tagline on the poster was “Who Will He Take Up the Aisle?” But in its modest way it’s an accomplished movie that finds its own distinctive groove and, in a morass of early-2000s barrel-scraping, would-be transgressive dross, it gently shines.
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