Review of Step Brothers (2008) by Chads. — 25 Jul 2008

1987 is not just the address of the Doback household; the innocuous number also serves as a disquieting reminder for a seemingly imperturable father, that his quiet, middle-class life since Ronald Reagan's last days in the Oval Office, can be encapsulated thusly, in short order: lemons, or lemonade.

1987 is the year his son Dale(John C. Reilly) stopped growing up. During the course of some out-of-state business-related speaking engagement, anti-serendipidity stares him in the face from his podium on the stage.

Enter Nancy(Mary Steenburgen). She has baggage, too. In fact, it's matching; hirsute baggage, with no silver lining, just like Robert's(Richard Jenkins). Don't let the presence of Will Ferrell fool you.

As Brennan Huff, a(holy crap!) Pablo Cruise fan(in Adam Rapp's "Winter Passing", Ferrell's character stops wearing eyeliner because it's "too Adam Ant"), the former-SNL performer carries around his usual bag of absurdist schtick, but this time, his lavish buffoonery is framed by a setting that unsettles the viewer with complicated laughs.

Inside "Stepbrothers" beats an indie heart that inevitably receives a dose of Hollywood atenonol, but not before the pathology of arrested development becomes self-evident, when the elder Doback's good will for his son is finally all tapped out.

For a few tantalizing moments, the surface gloss that effaces the familial corrosion underneath the lowbrow hijinks of Ferrell and Reilly's physical comedy, is smudged. Something substantially dark manages to peek through.

There's real anguish in Jenkins' face over his disappointing son that goes beyond standard comedy fare. Before the two brothers complete their character arcs, "Stepbrothers", in the time being, discomfits Hollywood protocol by being "The Brady Bunch" meets "Chuck and Buck"(Miguel Artega's 2000 film about a man-child who tries to reconnect with his romper room buddy).

"Stepbrothers" has more in common with Todd Solondz's "Happiness" than Adam McKay's previous film "Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby". It's a shame that the institutionalized norm of major studio films, especially summer fare, dictates that all stories must strive to end happily, which predicates a change in narrative trajectory, that ultimately, feels grafted on, and ends up ringing false to the viewer.

Especially, in this instance, because things get surprisingly hairy in "Stepbrothers" for awhile there, and I'm not talking about John C. Reilly's self-described "pube fro".