Starring: Kathleen Turner, Dennis Quaid, Fiona Shaw, Stanley Tucci,
Obba Babatunde
Director: Herbert Ross
Producer: Mike Lobell
Screenplay: Ian Abrams
Music: David Newman
Released by MGM
Husband and wife team Jeff (Dennis Quaid) and Jane Blue (Kathleen Turner) have, during their illustrious career as spies, worked for both the FBI and the CIA. Now, with an eleven-month old baby, they're in semi-retirement while vacationing in New Orleans. Of course, there wouldn't be a movie if a plot device didn't come along to re-activate them. In this case, it's a Czech terrorist, played by Fiona Shaw. Jeff and Jane are assigned to locate, then stop, her. Along the way, they are pursued by the incompetently villainous Muerte (Stanley Tucci), who is intent on redressing past insults.
Anyone who takes any part of this film seriously has missed the point. Undercover Blues is pure farce, with no inconvenient things like drama, characterization, or storyline thrown in to muddy the waters. The film frequently doesn't make sense, and, on those occasions when it does, its stupidity is so transparent that we almost wish it didn't. But that's part of the movie's limited charm.
Most comedy spy stories try for a few dramatic or thriller-type moments, but not Undercover Blues. In a way, it's refreshing never to have to worry about the heroes being in danger. You know from the beginning that there's no chance of that. The bad guys are straight out of the comics, and they're not the only ones.
The characters of Jeff and Jane Blue have no depth, but their banter is frequently amusing. Kathleen Turner and Dennis Quaid appear to be enjoying themselves immensely in these frothy roles, and they mesh well together. Whatever term you want to use for their pairing, be it likable or appealing, Turner and Quaid play off of each other as well as the script allows.
Fiona Shaw is a little to shrill to be enjoyable, but her role isn't particularly large. Her Novacek is a nasty woman who never elicits more than a halfhearted chuckle, and manages to get involved in an embarrassing mud-wrestling match with Jane Blue. Similarly, Obba Babatunde (as the tough- as-nails cop who trails around after the Blues) has few genuinely funny moments, but it's a little difficult to fathom exactly what his character is doing in the movie.
Stanley Tucci's Muerte is by far the best supporting character. Muerte, called "Morty" by the Blues, gets into a knife fight with Jeff early in the movie. Despite being one of the most feared men in Cajun Country, the inept thug is beaten soundly by Jeff, whose only weapon is a baby stroller. After that humiliating incident, he shows up time and time again, providing moments of hilarity amidst the sometimes plodding movement of a pointless plot.
Undercover Blues is silly enough to deserve some credit, and for those who see it, there will at least be a few laughs. This empty-headed comedy revels in its own admitted idiocy. It's debatable whether anyone would want to pay money for this picture, but when it gets to cable, it will be worth a look for those who are in the right mood. After all, there's always a place for mindless entertainment, even if that place is on television.
© 1993, 1996 James Berardinelli