Still, I found myself, on a Saturday afternoon, enthusiastically preparing to see Liar, Liar, the latest in the Carrey oeuvre. I could say I planned to see Liar, Liar because nothing else of note opened over the weekend. Or I could say I wanted to see it because a friend had coerced me, or that I was curious about Jim Carrey, or because I mistook it for a re-make of the 1993 TV movie of the same name "in which a 14-year-old girl (Vanessa King) accuses her father (Art Hindle) of incest." But the real reason I went was this: I just felt like seeing something stupid.

How, under these circumstances, could I have been disappointed? Yes, Liar, Liar is stupid. For laughs, Liar, Liar mostly relies upon the extensile skills of a full-grown man who is constantly freaking out physically. This is what happens when a lawyer cannot lie, we are told. Jim Carrey comes to us in the guise of counselor Fletcher Reede, "a self-centered prick" as he describes himself, who can't be true to the people he loves and refuses to be honest about anything. He's constantly disappointing his five-year-old son Max (Justin Cooper), an adorable little moppet who looks like a shrunken version of Paul McCartney. On his birthday, Max gets his wish that his dad will stop lying for one day.

Fletcher Reede, compelled to tell the truth, finds himself in touch with some sort of primal core of honesty within him. Not only does he tell the truth, he has access to his innermost instincts concerning his co-workers, friends, whomever. These he spouts off at the slightest prompting, and, I hate to say it, at first it's pretty funny. When a judge asks in an off-hand way how Fletcher's doing, he's obliged to admit he's still recovering from "a bad sexual episode." I don't know. I thought it was funny.

This movie has only one gimmick though, and after a while it begins to wear thin. There is something exhilarating about watching a self-serving, rich, weaseling lawyer being forced to reveal basic truths about himself, but only for about 20 minutes. After that, the screenwriters continue to pump this one joke dry by devising an elaborate and boring plot involving a cheatin' wife, lawyerly ambitions, and a totally random, meaningless deadline that Fletcher must meet, or lose the love of his son. This eventually degenerates into an absurd chase on a runway. You don't want to know.

The ironic thing of it is, this movie is so relentlessly dishonest, more than even your average Hollywood offering. Despite the smarmy message it delivers, Liar, Liar is obsessed with Jim Carrey. He's in almost every shot, and when he isn't, the other characters talk about him. Despite the fact that Carrey's famous overacting is comic book-like and unreal, his character is the most life-like in the whole movie. Even Max is reduced to a stick figure of a child. Everyone keeps saying he's turning five years old, but the kid is obviously older. Then everyone starts talking about how he has to be picked up from school, but four-year-olds don't go to school. Despite a plot designed to glorify the responsibility parents hold towards their children, it's like the kid's life doesn't matter. The only thing that's matters is Jim Carrey, and he's insane.