Cast: Robert De Niro, Eddie Murphy, Rene Russo, William Shatner, Jullian Dulce Vida
Director: Tom Dey
Producers: Jane Rosenthal, Jorge Saralegui
Screenplay: Keith Sharon and Alfred Gough & Miles Millar
Cinematography: Thomas Kloss
Music: Alan Silvestri
U.S. Distributor: Warner Brothers
When the presence of William Shatner is the best thing about a movie, you know the production is in trouble. Such is the case with Showtime, a lifeless cop buddy story/media satire that offers occasional laughs, but, for the most part, is a tedious endeavor. The movie eventually turns into the kind of film it starts out spoofing, and, in the process, doesn't seem to realize that the joke's on it. And, as a parody of America's fascination with reality-based television, Showtime meanders down a well-trodden path. In fact, this is the second time in 12 months that co-star Robert De Niro has appeared in a picture with that theme (his previous outing being the underrated Fifteen Minutes).
De Niro is Mitch Preston, a no-nonsense, highly respected police detective. TV producer Chase Renzi (Rene Russo) decides that she wants Mitch, a real-life Dirty Harry, to star in her new reality-based TV program, which will follow a genuine cop throughout his day-to-day activities. Not a moment will go by when he isn't on camera, whether at work or at home. Mitch hates the idea, but his captain orders him to cooperate, and to accept Trey Sellars (Eddie Murphy) as his new partner. Trey is a cop who moonlights as an actor and spends much of his time mugging for the cameras mounted inside the car he shares with Mitch. The two new partners don't get along - Mitch is investigating the whereabouts of a criminal who possesses a mythical "big gun" that has enough firepower to collapse a house, while Trey just wants to be famous. Enter William Shatner, recruited by Chase to provide acting tips... (The idea of Shatner teaching De Niro is inherently amusing.)
The familiarity of Showtime might easily have been excused if it offered something in the way of spontaneity, energy, or consistent humor. Instead, director Tom Dey (in his sophomore outing, following Shanghai Noon) saddles us with recycled car chases and shootouts, formulaic male bonding, and a lot of material that thinks it's more clever and funny than it is. To be sure, there are times when Eddie Murphy's wisecracking generates a smile or a chuckle, but De Niro's straight man routine is wearing thin (it's only possible to do this sort of thing for so long before it loses its impact). The only time the movie experiences a surge is when Shatner saunters on-screen for about ten minutes, playing himself. The actor-turned-Priceline spokesman, who no longer takes himself seriously (his years of self-importance are past), is all too willing to trade off on his pompous reputation and lampoon himself (much as he did in Free Enterprise). In essence, he has fun making an ass of himself, and De Niro and Murphy play right along. Of course, there are plenty of "T.J. Hooker" jokes (although nary a "Star Trek" mention to be found).
Unfortunately, Showtime goes where too many movies have gone before. The film is nothing more than a re-hash of other individual Murphy and De Niro outings (Beverly Hills Cop, Bowfinger, 48 Hours, Fifteen Minutes, etc.). It exists based on star power and because there are enough intriguing snippets to cut together into a 90-second theatrical trailer. The stars are on autopilot. Murphy smirks and occasionally gets hyper because it's expected of him, but his vocal performance as Donkey in Shrek was more energetic. For all the effort he puts out, De Niro might be reading his lines off cue cards. And Rene Russo doesn't only lack sex appeal, she lacks any kind of appeal at all. Her character is boring.
Showtime isn't a complete bust. For those who are satisfied with about six laughs over the course of 90 minutes, the film delivers. But, like too many action comedies, the movie loses its satirical center and mistakenly thinks it can succeed as a thriller, and maybe even throw in a little drama on the side. The moment Showtime begins to take itself even remotely seriously, it loses whatever edge it might have had - and that occurs less than 15 minutes into the proceedings. The best time for Showtime is no time.
© 2002 James Berardinelli