Review: Norbit

So even though I'm not feeling much better, I realized that if I didn't start posting in this blog again, it would end up dying. And dying isn't fun. Believe me, I've had way too many failed projects that weren't nearly this much fun or rewarding (woot! 3.70 via Google, only 96.30 more and I can collect!).

I am not very proud but certainly pleased to say that I did not pay a dime to see Norbit, and neither did my darling mother. A family friend apparently buys every bootleg available, and I will be working my way through a classy stack over spring break (2007: NJ Suburbs, now where'd I put my swimmin' trunks?) including Stomp the Yard, The Hitcher (remake), and Black Christmas (remake). I might even build up enough nerve to finally watch Dreamgirls (might, Beyonce scares me, yo).

So, let's start with the positive. The make-up is incredible. The only character that looks anything like Eddie Murphy in the film is Norbit, and that still looks quite different considering the impressive under bite, scrunch to the face, and head protecting fro (it's in the film, I'm not making this up). Mr. Wong - an elderly racist Chinese man (not making this up, yo) - looks convincing elderly and bald, while Rasputia looks realistically obese and bitch-faced. I'm just waiting for when, ironically, the film that lost Eddie Murphy his Oscar is nominated for one (best make-up, more of a lock that Click was).

Now that we have that out of the way: acting sucks, characters suck, pacing sucks, continuity sucks, lighting sucks (and it wasn't just the bootleg DVD recording that looks like a five year old with developmental problems made), sets sucked, costumes were ok, direction sucked, music sucked, sound editing sucked. Surprisingly, the screenplay was rather complex for the series of fart/racist jokes it held (my personal favorite running gag: Mr. Wong saying Rasputia was a big ugly gorilla - not joking, people, I'd say watch for yourself but I will not be responsible for people poking out their own eyes or busting their eardrums to stop the madness). If a more adept director had handled the film with a cast that wasn't just Eddie Murphy/phoning it in, this could have been a heartfelt little comedy. Thankfully, I will never have to worry about that ever again.

Suddenly, I have a headache again.

Trent Sketch safety tip: don't watch this film. It's bad for your health.