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Four Christmases

By Scott Tobias  |  November 25, 2008 | 10:03pm
Film Reviews Film
Four Christmases

Is there a comedic actor
who has more trouble feigning sincerity than Vince Vaughn? Withering sarcasm
and flustered aggravation, he can do. Arrogance both real and ironic has been
his stock in trade since Swingers. But ask him to express an honest emotion, and he
looks like an 8-year-old boy forced to choke down his asparagus: He sighs,
lowers his eyes, and tries to plow through the moment as quickly as possible.
Vaughn isn't required to do sincerity until late in the frenetic holiday comedy Four Christmases,
but his failures perfectly suit a film built on dumb contrivances, one that
itself can't fake a single genuine moment when the chips are down. The result
is two bad movies in one: a gimmicky romantic comedy, and one of those seasonal
headaches that submits loud family dysfunction as a vehicle for Christmas
cheer.

First seen in one of those
sunken living rooms that signify empty yuppiedom, Vaughn and girlfriend Reese
Witherspoon are children of divorce who proudly flaunt their lack of
commitment. They take ballroom-dance classes without a wedding reception around
the corner, and go out of their way to avoid family functions by faking
involvement in charitable causes. But when bad weather derails their Christmas
trip to Fiji, Vaughn and Witherspoon are forced to visit all four of their
parents' homes and spend time with the extended families. They encounter some
wacky characters, including Vaughn's roughneck father (Robert Duvall) and
brothers (Jon Favreau and Tim McGraw), who bully him WWE-style, and
Witherspoon's mother (Mary Steenburgen), who has not only converted to
Christianity, but is dating the pastor.

Vaughn and Witherspoon's
journey from one cartoonish family to the next recalls Rob Reiner's notorious
bomb North,
though having veterans like Duvall, Steenburgen, and Sissy Spacek (as Vaughn's
cradle-robbing hippie mother) around eases the pain a bit. Director Seth Gordon
was responsible for the wildly entertaining arcade-game documentary The King
Of Kong,
but in his feature debut, he can't make another collection of colorful
personalities seem recognizable as more than types. He also can't make sense of
the mismatched romantic leads, who at their happiest moments, look like they
can barely tolerate each other. Of course, their forced chemistry feeds into
the heartwarming message of Four Christmases: If you choose not to get
married and have kids, you are a shallow, loveless freak.

 
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