WILLING SUSPENSION OF disbelief is an odd phenomenon. It’s one thing to put aside common sense for a movie like Transformers–shape-shifting robots have traveled half the universe to duke it out on Earth? Sure, why not. But the key to a great sports movie is the ability to sit in a theater and think to yourself “yeah, the underdog could win this fight/game/race.” Straining credulity is one thing; asking us to believe the impossible is something else.
We believed that the runty Daniel Ruettiger could will his way onto the field for a single play in Rudy; we believed that the Italian Stallion could go toe to toe with Apollo Creed (then beat him in the rematch, take down Mr. T, and defeat Communism) in the Rocky series; we even bought into the idea that Nazis might stand up and clap for Pele after he bests them in a soccer game at a POW camp at the end of Victory. But I refuse to believe that the short, pudgy guy from Shaun of the Dead could, in three weeks, go from an out-of-shape, pack-a-day, no-will loser to a marathon man.
Run Fatboy Run is the new movie from Simon Pegg, the writer and costar of Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz. Those two films were modest indie success stories because they were hilarious subversions of previously established genres, the zombie movie and the cop drama, respectively. Pegg’s latest, however, is nothing if not a typical sports movie. The underdog (Pegg’s character, Dennis) fails early in the movie, learns a lesson, applies that lesson to his life, and ends up winning back the girl (Libby, played by Thandie Newton). And how does he end up winning her back? By running in a marathon, of course.
It doesn’t help that in the film’s opening scenes Dennis instantly becomes my single least favorite character in recent memory by leaving his beautiful, funny, and very-pregnant girlfriend at the altar. High comedy, that move! Look at the pregnant woman stomping around in the middle of the street, fighting back tears as the man she loves runs away from her! Is it any wonder that she would take back such a winner after he manages to finish a 26.2 mile race?
Leaving aside the notion that Dennis training for a marathon in under a month with absolutely no running experience under his belt is quite possibly the least plausible plotline this side of Michael Bay, the relationship subplot also strikes a false note. Libby has moved on with her life; though Dennis comes over to her apartment to see their son, she has begun dating a businessman by the name of Whit (Hank Azaria). By every measure, Whit’s a real catch–loving, good with her son, successful–and Azaria plays the character with a light touch (at first). Though perhaps a little brash, he appears to be twice the man Dennis is. Through no fault of his own, Azaria’s completely miscast in this role–he simply comes off as too likable for the first half of the movie to be seen as a credible villain. Stick a character actor like Michael Rooker or Peter Sarsgaard in that role and you have someone with the ability to come across as unlikable instantly. But Azaria compares far too well against Pegg to be considered a legitimate bad guy.
Despite the film’s general unbelievability, Run Fatboy Run is almost saved by the supporting actors. Dylan Moran is excellent as the roguish Gordon, Dennis’s best friend and Libby’s cousin. Harish Patel is quite funny as Dennis’s immigrant landlord, Mr. Ghoshdashtidar. And Matthew Fenton is exceptionally cute in the role of Dennis and Libby’s son. But taken as a whole, the film doesn’t gel. I can’t buy into the running subplot. I can’t buy into the relationship subplot. I can’t even buy into the ending, when half of London seems to turn out to cheer a limping Dennis over the finish line. The film feels hollow, and a little forced. Not helping matters is director David Schwimmer (that’s right, Ross from Friends), whose visual style could best be described as something between bland and banal, and cowriter Michael Ian Black (best known as “that guy from all those VH1 clip shows”). Simon Pegg can do better than this crew.
Sonny Bunch is assistant editor at THE WEEKLY STANDARD.
