(Imagine if The Situation was thirty years older - with a law degree… Now pray to God you wake up soon. )
CAST: Joe Pesci, Ralph Macchio, Marisa Tomei, Mitchell Whitfield, Fred Gwynne, Austin Pendleton, Bruce McGill.
DIRECTOR: Jonathan Lynn
WARNING: Some SPOILERS and one Guido lawyer from NYC running loose in the Deep (very Deep) South…
If the movies are to be believed, the South might as well be the frickin’ Twilight Zone. Time and again, we’ve seen the population below the Mason Dixon line portrayed as: (1) spoiled debutantes; (2) corrupt sheriffs; (3) sleazy plantation owners; and the most popular one: (3) in-bred bastards from hell. Hey, look, you don’t believe me? Go watch DELIVERANCE, SOUTHERN COMFORT, SWEET HOME ALABAMA, WRONG TURN, MACON COUNTY LINE, RETURN TO MACON COUNTY, etc., etc., etc., etc….
Bottom line: if you’re a movie character, you’d have to be out of your fucking mind to go traipsing below the Mason/Dixon line without: (1) an Uzi; (2) Mace; (3) or your own personal traveling attorney to defend you, just in case you get slapped with a murder charge so utterly bogus it could only happen in a movie set in the Deep South. Which happens to be our latest review, the hilarious Guido-Out-Of-Noo Yawk comedy MY COUSIN VINNY. For all of you out there who think The Situation has no chance of growing up and making something of himself, I offer up this movie as proof that, yessir, he can.
Our hero is Vinny Gambini (Jou Pesci), an Italian-American with shellacked hair and matching attitude, who never met a gold chain that he didn’t feel the need to wrap around his neck several times. Vinnie and his sassy girlfriend Mona Lisa Vito (Marisa Tomei) get yanked into rural Alabama (Wazoo, AL, to be exact) to save the keesters of his nephew, Bill (Ralph Macchio), and Bill’s tweaker best friend, Stan (Mitchell Whitfield). Seems our two young dumbasses got themselves into hot water (AKA Bogus Murder Charge) while driving cross-country to Los Angeles to attend UCLA.
Now, folks… Let me just come out and say that I have just about as much sympathy for these two numbnuts as I do for your average moth flying right into the flame. No, scratch that… at least the moth can’t help it. It’s a dumb creature, and the flame sure looks purdy, don’t it? However, with our two choads named Bill and Stan, consider this: if they were smart enough to get into UCLA (which, believe me, is not exactly Podunk Community College), then they should’ve been canny enough to also map out a route that takes them through the Great Lakes, down into the Midwest, then into Montana, and into the Northwest, then down to L.A. I actually took this route myself when I move to Los Angeles from Michigan - so, yes, it can be done. There was no need to go into Colonel Sanders Territory, thank you very much.
But whatevs. If Bill and Stan hadn’t made this colossal blunder in road-trip planning, there wouldn’t be a fucking movie. And we wouldn’t have the pleasure of watching Vinny and Mona Lisa basically roll into town and gape at everything around them like they just walked into Madame Tussaud’s House of Wax. Again, scratch that… at least in Madame Tussaud’s House of Wax, the horrors are fake. In Wazoo, AL, the whackjobs are very, very real, buddy boy. Enough to make our visitors from Brooklyn and the Jersey Shore wish they’d never set foot outside the Tri-State Area. Then again, Vinnie and Mona Lisa are probably just as terrifying to the backward (in more ways than one) residents of Wazoo.
To say that Vinny’s got an uphill battle in defending Bill and Stan, is like saying a porn actress’ vagina is a little used. For starters, he: (1) has only practiced law for six months; (2) took six times to pass the bar exam; and (3) is, well, a Guido. Now, folks, the most wonderful people I know are Guidos, or somewhat close to being one. And the most delightful people in the world are Italians and Italian-Americans. But I think it’s fairly safe to say that a Guido in a Deep South town full of Grade-A Rednecks is kind of like a Drag Queen flashing his shit at a Westpoint dormitory. In other words: good luck with that. And get the forensics clean-up crew ready.
Just a few of the things that Vinny has to contend with: (1) an irascible judge (Fred Gwynne), (2) a ruthless district attorney (Lane Smith), (3) a legal system just a little bit more lenient than a medieval execution, and (4) Mona Lisa herself, who - by her own admission - has a biological clock ticking down more relentlessly than a massive time bomb from the climax of a James Bond flick. Way to pick a time to play the Ovary Card, Mona Lisa. It’s not like Vinny has time to kill to listen to you whine, you know.
So… does Vinny stand a chance against the “Good-Ol’-Boy” system? Will he find a way to win the case against Bill and Stan? Or are their asses pretty much toast? What chance do they have with an attorney whose opening statement consists of one line: “Everything that guy just said is bullshit.“ ? What happens when the “Good-Ol’-Boy” system tries to beckon Vinny over to the dark side? Are they playing him? What does a Guido have to do to catch a break in Wazoo, AL? And what secret skill does Mona Lisa have that just might win their case?
I mean, besides the ability to suck a golf ball through twenty feet of garden hose, that is. Presumably, the rednecks are more into farm animals.
BUT, SERIOUSLY: In past reviews of comedies like JUST ONE OF THE GUYS (review # 38 ), TROPIC THUNDER (review # 46), and WHO’S THAT GIRL (review # 268), we discussed how confidence and charm can go a long way in making a funny movie click with audiences. Both of those films foisted on us a potent combo of engaging characters, sharp dialogue, amusing situations, and sweet sincerity to basically seduce us into a state of cinematic bliss. That’s a hard thing to do.
For starters, you need the following: (1) a strong plot hook, (2) a smart, funny script, and (3) a gallery of vivid, vibrant characters. JUST ONE OF THE GUYS, TROPIC THUNDER, and WHO’S THAT GIRL had those elements. MY COUSIN VINNY is another such film. It’s a comedy that is smart, funny, and unexpectedly sincere. In short, it’s a winner.
MY COUSIN VINNY’s plot hook is a winner: an Italian-American from the big city finds himself neck-deep in the alien world of a Deep South small town. This is even more hilarious than your basic “City Mouse Stuck Outside The Big City” premise. Mainly because Vinny and Mona Lisa (particularly Vinny) react to the country folk with such hard-edged profanity, which can be very funny if done correctly - and it is here.
The script is loaded with hilarious Guido-out-of-water scenarios, as well as some choice lines. I could recount a lot of the jokes here, particularly Vinny’s profane reaction to everything Southern (and, in his view, shocking). Mona Lisa gets a lot of sharp lines herself, and makes a more-than-worthy adversary/partner to Vinny. While the script doesn’t really do much more than trot out stereotypes, both urban and rural, at least they are very funny. Each of the characters, whether from New York or Alabama, are all vivid, hilarious, and distinct - and that’s more than half the battle of comedy. While everyone is very good, this film belongs to Joe Pesci and Maris Tomei who - say what you want - deserved that Oscar for Best Supporting Actress.
In the end, MY COUSIN VINNY succeeds because of it potent combo of charm, gumption, and rough - but also sweet - humor. In short, it’s a bit of a modern classic - whether you’re a Guido or a Redneck.
