It's a satire about big business. Judge Reinhold is a senator's son, hired by a mega-corporation owned by Eddy Albert. Albert's daughter natters Reinhold, who is head of the Complaints Department, about saving the plant in Allenstown instead of moving the facility to a third-world country where labor is cheap. Yes, Albert himself may be Master Of The Universe, but his daughter is a populist.
It opens with some promise. Albert and a guest are being flown around Chicago in Albert's personal helicopter and Albert is grinning like a shark as he brags to his guest. "See that building? I own that. And I own those two towers over there. And that building there. Hell, I came here with only forty-two million dollars in my pocket and now I own the whole city." That's not bad and we hope for more.
But -- then we're taken inside the INC corporate building and it's a frenetic madhouse. People are being fired, promoted, informed that they only have eight months left to live, committing suicide by hanging and by jumping out of windows. They scream and sweat. They dash around protesting. They bump into people and objects like a ball in a pinball machine. And nobody pays any attention. Danny DeVito makes a brief appearance before leaping through a window and falling fifteen stories into a decorative pool. Jane Seymour has what amounts to a bit part.
The remainder of the movie has some enjoyably funny embedded jokes. Reinhold and his boss, Richard Masur, are sent to Allenstown to tell the corporation's side of the controversial story. They smoke some grass and quietly plan their pitch. Reinhold: "What's our story?" Masur: "We have to close down the plant because we're losing money hand over fist." Reinhold: "But that's not true." Masur: "No, it's our story." The limousine driver, better known as Father Guido Sarducci, gets high from breathing the smoke and keeps missing the turn off for Allensville. Muted, amusing little exchanges like that crop up from time to time.
Too bad they are buried in the frenzy as the director and performers try to rush the tempo and keep the viewers from taking a breath. There is such a thing as trying too hard. Want to see a movie that doesn't take its comedy so seriously and is a success? Try "Office Space," also about the greediness of a large corporation. Or -- more subtle still -- "Bartleby." The ending involves a slapstick shoot out in a storage area and whatever was left of the movie collapses completely, worn out, exhausted, just plain worked to death.
It opens with some promise. Albert and a guest are being flown around Chicago in Albert's personal helicopter and Albert is grinning like a shark as he brags to his guest. "See that building? I own that. And I own those two towers over there. And that building there. Hell, I came here with only forty-two million dollars in my pocket and now I own the whole city." That's not bad and we hope for more.
But -- then we're taken inside the INC corporate building and it's a frenetic madhouse. People are being fired, promoted, informed that they only have eight months left to live, committing suicide by hanging and by jumping out of windows. They scream and sweat. They dash around protesting. They bump into people and objects like a ball in a pinball machine. And nobody pays any attention. Danny DeVito makes a brief appearance before leaping through a window and falling fifteen stories into a decorative pool. Jane Seymour has what amounts to a bit part.
The remainder of the movie has some enjoyably funny embedded jokes. Reinhold and his boss, Richard Masur, are sent to Allenstown to tell the corporation's side of the controversial story. They smoke some grass and quietly plan their pitch. Reinhold: "What's our story?" Masur: "We have to close down the plant because we're losing money hand over fist." Reinhold: "But that's not true." Masur: "No, it's our story." The limousine driver, better known as Father Guido Sarducci, gets high from breathing the smoke and keeps missing the turn off for Allensville. Muted, amusing little exchanges like that crop up from time to time.
Too bad they are buried in the frenzy as the director and performers try to rush the tempo and keep the viewers from taking a breath. There is such a thing as trying too hard. Want to see a movie that doesn't take its comedy so seriously and is a success? Try "Office Space," also about the greediness of a large corporation. Or -- more subtle still -- "Bartleby." The ending involves a slapstick shoot out in a storage area and whatever was left of the movie collapses completely, worn out, exhausted, just plain worked to death.