Stuck in the thankless role of the action hero flouting his tough-guy image by playing opposite a gaggle of moppets (see also Arnold Schwarzenegger in Kindergarten Cop, Vin Diesel in The Pacifier, etc.) The Rock makes a stiff but surprisingly charming comedy star as Joe Kingman, a quarterback so in love with his "king" reputation/nickname that he packs his home with Elvis posters and memorabilia alongside the gigantic pictures of himself. Then precocious 8-year-old Peyton Kelly arrives on his doorstep, announcing that she's the daughter he didn't know he had, and he's responsible for her for a month while her mom is doing charity work in Africa. At first, he's all, you know, put out and stuff, especially when she dresses his bulldog in a tutu and covers various household objects with plastic gems. And he isn't too happy when sexy ballet teacher Roselyn Sanchez tells him that to be a supportive dad, he has to wear tights and perform in Kelly's big ballet recital. But eventually, as expected, he totally mellows. Cue big "awwwww" moment.
Every inch of The Game Plan is formulaic, and Kelly makes the proceedings even more artificial by performing like a 30-year-old in a kid suit, complete with ridiculously mannered dialogue: Upon meeting one of her pop's stylish fuck-buddies, Kelly announces "To think you walked out on my mom just to hang out with the likes of that!" But in the film's favor, it's nowhere near as excruciating as it could be. It's a squeaky clean pre-John Hughes, pre-Farrelly brothers throwback to an era where the words "Disney film" meant something: a movie free of crotch slams, gross-out gags, and tittery innuendo. Even the inevitable discomfort humor is blessedly mild. That doesn't make the predictability easier to take, but it does mean parents can sit through the whole thing with a minimum of winces and groans. It's solidly average, but also solidly harmless.
