Movie review: What Happens in Vegas

by John P. Meyer

What Happens in Vegas shapes up to be more of a May/August romantic pairing than it actually is - the weatherbeaten and once-too-oft-tanned Cameron Diaz appears far older than the baby-faced Ashton Kutcher, though in reality their birthdates are only six years apart.

So at least on the basis of any supposed generational gap, there's no way to explain the fact that their characters in the movie (Joy and Jack) get along so swimmingly with each other at the outset and then suddenly turn bitterly antagonistic. Yes, their working lives are dissimilar: she's a high-powered trader on the floor of the NYSE; he's a less-than-ambitious tradesman working in his father's cabinet shop. But the more likely explanation has to do with the fact that their hateful behavior serves to set up that time-worn plot line whereby a seemingly charming couple spare no measure to appear combative, while behind the scenes (and in the minds of everyone who's ever seen a romantic comedy) their secret selves are in the process of falling for each other like lemmings from a cliff-edge.

The setup: Joy has just been dumped by her self-centered upwardly mobile boyfriend (in front of an entire roomful of her friends), while across town Jack has just been fired from his job - by his own father. The two meet up under bizarre hotel room double-booking circumstances, along with the companions who have variously joined them for their planned weekends of Vegas-based debauchery: Jack's bud "Hater" (played by Rob Corddry) and Joy's gal pal Tipper (Lake Bell, essaying the coquettish misandrist).

Even before the epic bout of drinking begins, it's clear that there's some attraction between Jack and Joy - he goes to great lengths to convince her to join him for a drink, and as they start opening up to each other she seems to be enjoying his company - more so, of course, as the drinking continues. For their part, Hater and Tipper serve as genuinely antagonistic foils, with Tipper fending off Hater's unsubtle advances with comments such as "If I could make someone dead with my mind, it would be you." No double entendre there, mate.

When their night-long blur of booze-fueled commiseration ends with Joy and Jack legally hitched, both their hungover brains rebel at the thought of an extended partnership (for no explicable reason) and they resolve to divorce at the earliest mutual convenience. Meanwhile, Jack pulls the handle of a one-armed bandit using Joy's last quarter, and the resulting $3 million becomes a bone of plot-development contention.

Enter Dennis Miller in a role custom made for him: that of a feisty, iconoclastic magistrate. Judge Whopper (sigh) decides that a couple who've been legally wed deserve to serve time with each other before benefiting monetarily, so he freezes their millions and orders them to try the marriage thing for a few months. And he assigns therapist Dr. Twitchell (Queen Latifah) to certify that they put genuine effort into the relationship. (What's the judge's motivation? Hard to say, other than perhaps he has a God complex and likes to mess with hapless civilians.)

Tom Vaughan, whose single feature film directing credit prior to this is Starter for 10 (2006, BBC/HBO), proves himself capable of translating a script into a coherent and well-paced cinematic narrative; unfortunately, the script in question (by Dana Fox, writer of 2005's The Wedding Date) has served up the sort of cookie-cutter story line that will have everyone in the theater (and I mean EVERYONE) wondering how this rote romantic comedy can turn out any differently than it eventually in fact does.

There are engaging bits embedded in this generally lackluster whole: when Joy's boss Richard "Dick" Banger (sigh) - played by the naturally caustic Dennis Farina - invites Joy and her new hubby to a corporate retreat, Mr. Kutcher's character gets to cut loose and inject some much-needed humor into the straight-laced high-toned proceedings. And the family dinner during which Joy becomes acquainted with Jack's parents (Treat Williams and Deirdre O'Connell) actually succeeds in generating compassion for a couple who may not have given their partnership a fair enough shake.

But unless you're passionate about bicycle polo and scenic lighthouse settings, there's not a lot going on here worthy of notice. When the flashback sequences accompanying the end credits turn out to be the comedic highlight of the 99-minute film-viewing experience, it might be time to consider another entertainment opportunity.