Cast: Jim Carrey, Matthew Broderick, Leslie Mann, Jack Black, Diane Baker, George Segal
Director: Ben Stiller
Producers: Bernie Brillstein, Brad Grey, and Marc Gurvitz
Screenplay: Lou Holtz Jr.
Cinematography: Robert Brinkmann
Music: John Ottman
U.S. Distributor: Columbia Pictures
If the fare being shown on cable TV isn't enough to turn potential customers away, The Cable Guy might do the trick. Much in the tradition of Single White Female and this year's Fear, the movie takes a pathological loner and inserts him into the protagonist's life. The grim scenario is made less appealing by the presence of Jim Carrey in the title role. Carrey's constant, failed attempts to do something humorous with his sinister character are jarring.
Presumably, director Ben Stiller intended The Cable Guy to be a dark satire of the genre recently popularized by The Hand that Rocks the Cradle and its ilk. One of the more obvious problems is that these movies exist almost as self-parodies in their own right, and it's difficult to lampoon something that's silly and overblown to begin with. Others have tried and failed, proving, if nothing else, that this ground isn't as fertile as it appears to be. Another problem is that, at times, sitting through this movie becomes an endurance contest. Basically, it's not a whole lot of fun. There's no one to identify with -- Carrey's Cable Guy is a stalker, and Matthew Broderick's Steven is bland to the point of near-invisibility.
I'm not sure how Carrey's legions of fans will react to this picture. Their star gets numerous opportunities to go through his usual shtick -- the funny expressions, exaggerated body language, and strange voices -- but the Cable Guy isn't the kind of likable lunatic Carrey portrayed in his popular Ace Ventura outings and Dumb and Dumber. Here, he's seriously disturbed, and, too often, Stiller's film tries to cull humor from a personality that isn't funny.
The Cable Guy begins by introducing us to Steven, who has just been kicked out the apartment he shared with his girlfriend (Leslie Mann). In setting up his new bachelor pad, Steven needs his cable connected. The guy who arrives (late, of course) to do the job seems a little off- the-wall, but he does what he's supposed to, and, when he throws in some free premium channels, who is Steven to complain? Unfortunately, the Cable Guy is in desperate need of a friend, and he has chosen Steven as the object of his unhealthy fixation. Suddenly, in the Cable Guy's mind, he and Steven are best buddies. Steven, however, has a different perspective, but his attempts to rid himself of this unwanted interloper lead to disaster.
The Cable Guy is loaded with homoerotic overtones, and this may affect how Carrey's fans react to the film. It's not a stretch to imagine that the Cable Guy is looking for more than a friendly relationship with Steven -- all the phallic jokes and double-entendres emphasize this point. So, once again, Hollywood has equated ambiguous sexuality with a character who can be charitably described as a nutcase.
Even though much of The Cable Guy is stuck in the mire, Stiller crafts a few shining moments. Many of these involve a minor subplot focusing on the TV coverage of a high-profile muder trial (clearly modeled after you-know-who). We get news-update type snippets throughout the film, and, in a clever bit of screenwriting, the verdict dovetails with the climax of the main plot. Other parodies are in evidence as well, with tabloid TV, Star Trek, and Goldeneye all getting good-natured jabs. And Janeane Garofalo is delightful in a deadpan cameo as the serving wench at a Medieval Times restaurant.
Sadly, however, most of the comic and thriller potential in The Cable Guy is wasted. This movie is neither exciting nor funny, and its constant, desperate attempts to make us laugh are pathetic. It's likely that those who dislike Carrey will despise this picture. Regardless of your opinion of the comic, however, one thing is clear: director Ben Stiller has taken a huge misstep in attempting to broaden the range of his $20 million star.
© 1996 James Berardinelli