MOVIE REVIEW : ‘Oscar’: Snaps Sans Crackle and Pop

To say that “Oscar,” Sylvester Stallone’s latest attempt to become king of comedy, is funnier than might be expected (which it is) is really not saying that much. Only those cursed with memories of “Rhinestone,” his when-worlds-collide pairing with Dolly Parton of a few years back, know how low expectations can legitimately be when Sly gets in a chuckling mood.

Adding that Stallone is actually borderline acceptable as a farce hero may be a trifle more surprising. After all, this is a man who raised monosyllabic muttering to an art form with not one but two laconic heroes, Rocky and Rambo, franchises whose continued success has done more than generations of educators to breed familiarity with the Roman numeral system. Can the man really be counted on to hold his own in a genre where liveliness and wit carry more weight than a fully loaded Uzi? The answer is, sort of.

The trick is that “Oscar” (citywide), a hoary farce nominally based on a vehicle by French playwright Claude Magnier but with roots that probably go back to the Romans if not further, has been tailored to Stallone’s specific abilities. In other words, all he really has to do here is look as angry as a tea kettle, huffing and puffing in outrage like a svelte Wallace Beery and hoping that the rest of the cast provides the necessities of comedy. With rare exceptions, unfortunately, they do not.

Return with us now to a rainy day in 1931 as successful mobster Angelo (Snaps) Provolone (guess who?) pays a visit to his dying father (an uncredited cameo by Kirk Douglas). A symphony in black and white, Snaps has only to snap his fingers to have his will be done. His old man, however, is unimpressed with all this power and extracts a deathbed promise from Snaps to give up his shameful life of crime.

Cut to one month later. Snaps, ensconced in a palatial mansion paid for by the wages of sin, has arrived at the day when he goes straight. Much to the dismay of his crew of hooligans, he has scheduled a noon meeting with a group of snooty bankers he is hoping to join. In the four hours between his early rising and that noon meeting, however, all hell breaks loose, as it can only in classic farce. Multiple mistaken identities, switchings of allegiance, not to mention of handbags, succeed one another at a dizzying rate, confusing not only Snaps but his wife (Ornella Muti), his major domo (Peter Riegert) and his accountant (Vincent Spano). It could have been funny, but except for occasional rogue moments, it isn’t, and why seems like a fair question.

Director John Landis would seem like a good place to start. It was he who came across the material, thought of setting “Oscar” in 1931, determined on Stallone for the lead role, and hired screenwriters Michael Barrie and Jim Mulholland to do the final script.

Because of scheduling conflicts, that draft had to be done in three weeks, and while it would be uncharitable to say that it reads that way, that happens to be the sad truth. Not only are several bits of business lifted from other films, but Barrie and Mulholland have a weakness for the weakest of verbal cliches, putting lines like “How do you like the crust on that mug?” and “You can’t fire me, I quit” into the helpless mouths of his characters. Even the old “Don’t call me boss”/”Yes, boss” wheeze is dragged out of an honorable retirement for use here.

Aiding and abetting this felony is Landis, whose idea of directing farce is to have everyone move rapidly and scream as loudly as they can. All the business of comedy is handled strictly mechanically, without anything resembling the light touch this sub-genre demands, and the result (rated PG) is frankly tiresome and invariably more frantic than funny.

Still, all is not lost, largely because Landis had the wit to cast the secondary parts with experienced players who understand their work. Chazz Palminteri is all sweet befuddlement as Snaps’ top lug, as is Tim Curry as a wild and crazy elocution professor, while coming off best of all are Martin Ferrero and Harry Shearer as the unflappable Finucci Brothers,tailors to gangland stars. Whenever any of the above are on the screen, all is not lost.

How could John Landis, who has a reputation for comedy, fall so flat here? The answer is that Landis’ greatest successes, with John Belushi in “Animal House” and Eddie Murphy in “Trading Places,” required him to do little more than get out of the way of his very talented stars. As honorable as Stallone acquits himself here, simply getting out of his way is not enough to make anyone laugh very hard.

‘Oscar’

Sylvester Stallone: Angelo (Snaps) Provolone

Chazz Palminteri: Connie

Marisa Tomei: Lisa Provolone

Ornella Muti: Sofia Provolone

A Touchstone Picture distributed by Buena Vista Pictures. Director John Landis. Producer Leslie Belzberg. Executive producers Alex Ponti and Joseph S. Vecchio. Screenplay by Michael Barrie and Jim Mulholland. Cinematographer Mac Ahlberg. Editor Dale Beldin. Costumes Deborah Nadoolman. Music Elmer Bernstein. Production design Bill Kenney. Art director Wm. Ladd Skinner. Set designers Nick Navarro, Sally Thornton, Richard F. Mays, Lawrence Hubbs and Steven Wolff. Set decorator Rick T. Gentz. Running time: 1 hour, 49 minutes.

MPAA-rated PG.