The days of Kay Corleone are long gone, and Diane Keaton has
settled into the archetypal crispy, upper crust matron role quite nicely.
Though a bit aged, she can still play the role model WASP to the letter, throwing
a sweater around her neck and wearing those pearls with creepy authenticity.
It’s with this manic panache that she ditches last year’s role as Mandy Moore’s
mom (just one of 2007’s January duds) for this year’s first pathetic attempt at
girl power.
Essentially, when things go south for Keaton and her wimpy
husband, Ted Danson (cast in the “what the hell?” role), she’s got to get back
to work, teaming up with pals Queen Latifah and Katie Holmes to show us how
real bank robbers do: scrubbing floors, mulching old green-backs and stealing
from the Federal Reserve, all while looking fabulous.
Yes, each diva may contribute to the scheme, but the true
mastermind behind these fiscal hijinks is grand dame Keaton.
Can three people really steal from the Federal Reserve with
uncanny winks and unabashed spending? Why not? The movie is a dream come true
for anyone who wants to take a trip into the never never land of our
capitalistic dreams. Callie Khouri, the brain behind the ultimate female
fuck-you “Thelma and Louise,” directed “Mad Money” with a similarly inspired,
yet watered down version of the same message.
What could have been another middle finger to society ends
up being a polite shoulder tap greased up in comical guffaws. One liners and
“oh no, she didn’ts” run amok as Queen Latifah delivers her signature sass and
Holmes cutes her way through every scene. Told from the ever-clever vantage
point of police interviews and tagged timelines, “Mad Money” gives us an
un-inventive tale in an even less inventive manner.
Khouri wants to lure the audience in with the underlying
desire all people have to stick it to the man for the commercial injustice done
to them daily. The only problem with the lighthearted economic jabs is that
they play more with bank robbing than social injustice.
“Mad Money” is no “Trading Places” but rather a limp take on
“Fun with Dick and Jane,” a harmless little flick about girls acting
outrageously that wants to be masked as a story of little guys reaching for the
American dream.
“Mad Money” is one of those films that, despite ignoring the
obvious implausibility of the entire movie, never lags. It’s gimmicky fluff
that’s passively entertaining, the kind that leaves the back of your mind free
to formulate grocery lists or remember your mom’s birthday next week,
exorcising the film from your mind as the lights go up.
More likely than not, it was conceived as a solid paycheck
for actresses who might find roles hard to come by (Holmes’ last film was in
2005, ya’ll). At its most heartfelt moment, the movie’s bent on raking in as
much cash as possible by giving you big names and larger-than-life antics — if
you want classic, you’ve got Diane Keaton; if you want strong independent
woman, there’s Queen Latifah and, hell, if you want a little modern-day Audrey
Hepburn (at least according to Keaton), you’ve got Holmes.
But if you’re going to create some silliness about dubious
chicks robbing the Federal Reserve, you might as well up the ante and have the
Spice Girls as the leads.
At least they can sing, steal, and make you half believe in
their manufactured authenticity.
