Mix-Ups in a Mixed-Up Comedy

Ricki Lake, who occupies one of the lower links on the TV trash-talk food chain, is promoted to ugly duckling in “Mrs. Winterbourne,” a film that waddles through the movie-memory super-mart shoplifting everything but charm.

Directed by Richard Benjamin, “Mrs. W” is “My Fair Lady” meets “My Man Godfrey” meets “Sabrina.” In pursuit of the last, apparently, we have Lake, who might consider for her next talkfest “Miscast Actresses and the Agents Who Hate Them.” Surrounding her are Shirley MacLaine, playing yet another crusty dame who steals the picture, and Brendan Fraser, a fine young actor who may be embarrassed by all this but is too professional to show it.

As Connie Doyle--who will rise up as if a phoenix from the ashes of life in Hoboken--Lake plays a bulb so dim that upon arriving in Manhattan she takes up with the first lowlife who approaches her (one Steve DeCunzo, played by Loren Dean); thinks he’ll be happy when she tells him she’s pregnant; thinks he’ll care that she’s out on the street in the rain; and, while seeking refuge in Grand Central Terminal, gets on a train to Boston, thinking it’s the IRT. Judging from her shape, she’s been in New York at least nine months, so how she confuses Amtrak with the subway has to be written off to movie magic. Never mind the fact that you haven’t been able to get a train to Boston from Grand Central since 1971.

But isn’t it funny how such inconsequential facts are so easily overlooked when the movie is going well?

On the train, the ticket-less Connie is befriended by Hugh Winterbourne (Fraser) and his very pregnant wife, Patricia (Susan Haskell). Minutes later, the train derails, Hugh and Patricia are killed and Connie wakes up in a Connecticut hospital with a new baby and a wrist tag reading “Winterbourne.”

Now, of course, comes the hard part. In any such madcap movie mix-up, there is that difficult period of adjustment when all logic and normal human function are abandoned to promote the farce. Does Connie simply say, “I am not Mrs. Winterbourne”? Of course not. But the trick is getting past this in graceful fashion, snookering the audience in a way we don’t notice. And what we can’t help but notice is how hard Lake works to avoid those words.

But “Mrs. Winterbourne” itself is graceless, forced, unsure of its tone from one minute to the next. When Connie meets the other Winterbournes, for instance--the ailing, imperious Grace (MacLaine) and Hugh’s twin, Bill (Fraser)--she turns from pleasantly blue-collar to rabidly white trash. There’s a dinner table scene so tackily overdone you assume that Benjamin--who once upon a time directed “My Favorite Year”--has lost all sense of what constitutes smart comedy. It’s not the script, it’s the delivery (no pun intended). Add to this the highly unlikely development that Bill falls madly in love with Connie, and you get the distinct sense of being force-fed treacle with a fish knife.

For all Lake’s charms in John Waters’ “Hairspray,” which seems to have been her most memorable performance, that was a cartoon. This we’re supposed to take semi-seriously. There’s a crisis, a romance, a rapprochement, a gay Latino retainer (Miguel Sandoval), which seems to be the movie accessory of the moment, and a baby that prompts involuntary “oooh, ahhhhs.” I’m afraid it’s not enough. If the Winterbournes want Connie, I say let them have her.

* MPAA rating: PG-13, for some thematic elements and brief strong language. Times guidelines: Language is occasionally crude, and certain adult situations come into the mix.

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‘Mrs. Winterbourne’

Ricki Lake: Connie

Shirley MacLaine: Grace

Brendan Fraser: Hugh/Bill

Miguel Sandoval: Paco

Loren Dean: Steve

An A&M; Films production, released by TriStar. Director Richard Benjamin. Producers Dale Pollock, Ross Canter, Oren Koules. Screenplay by Phoef Sutton, Lisa-Maria Radano. Cinematographer Alex Nepomniaschy. Editor Jacqueline Cambas. Costumes Theoni V. Aldredge. Music Patrick Doyle. Production design Evelyn Sakash. Running time: 1 hour 44 minutes.

* In general release throughout Southern California.