There's nothing worse than a good idea gone to waste--unless it's a good
idea turned into a shameless exploitation of the very issue it set out to
explore. Ron Howard's new film EDtv is the second film in a year to
examine the impact of round-the-clock television coverage on an ordinary
person's life, and now that Howard has stomped around in that sandbox and
made a mess of the play area, this interesting and relevant issue is
probably off-limits to filmmakers for a few seasons.
The first entry into TV territory was, of course, The Truman
Show, and in many ways EDtv is the inverse of Truman's
premise. Instead of placing an unwitting star in an artificial environment,
screenwriters Lowell Ganz and Babaloo Mandel take an ordinary guy out of a
bar and follow him with cameras all day. Ed (Matthew McConaughey) works at
a video store, has a burgeoning romance with Sherry (Jenna Elfman), and
tolerates the money-making schemes his brother Ray (Woody Harrelson)
periodically launches. When True TV, a struggling cable network, switches
to an all-Ed, all-the-time format, ratings soar and the likable Ed becomes
a celebrity. But the new star, along with his family and friends, finds out
that fame carries a heavy price when USA Today starts running polls
on his sex life and the network won't let him quit.
People in the public eye tend to lose their privacy? The media have a
hard time telling the difference between reality and entertainment? What
shocking revelations! In sharp contrast to Truman, which used its
high concept to examine our society's craving for security, EDtv
draws only the most obvious, clichd morals from its hero's two months in
front of the lens. The movie's villains are the easiest targets imaginable:
network suits obsessed with profits and overnights, embodied by a
ridiculously caricatured Rob Reiner. Thankfully for Universal's TV
syndication arm, however, there's a programming exec with a heart, played
by Ellen Degeneres, who reforms the evil empire from within.
Matthew McConaughey flashes his million-dollar smile a lot during the
first hour, and for the privilege of spending more time with his personable
Ed, the trade-off of sitting through contrived crises doesn't seem too bad.
But as Ganz and Mandel tick off their shopping list of moral dilemmas--the
disillusioned girlfriend, the estranged brother, the tempting slut, the
long-lost father--McConaughey becomes a confused observer of his own show,
and all the life drains out of the film. Elfman's character is unusually
colorless, except for some radically plucked eyebrows. And poor Martin
Landau, as Ed's stepfather Al, is stuck in a motorized cart and wheeled out
for geezer laughs.
Worst of all, a movie that purports to be all about the way media
attention corrupts reality shoves Pepsi products and subsidiaries in the
audience's face for two hours without a trace of irony. Real incisive
stuff. Ganz and Mandel, who got rich in the '80s on good work like
Parenthood and City Slickers, have now become a sure bet for
shallow bathos (Father's Day, Greedy). Too bad they got to
this premise before some writers with insight got to take a crack at it. We
might have learned something about ourselves, or at least gotten a few
laughs for our seven bucks.