Blog From The Bench

Little Man is the worst movie of the summer. In fact, it’s safe to say that it will probably land right up near the top as the worst movie of the YEAR. Bereft of anything closely resembling intelligence or entertainment value, and unbelievably bad at delivering its more than minor elements, this so called comedy from the family Wayans (Marlon and Shawn onscreen, Keenan Ivory behind the camera) feels like nothing more than a tactless grab for cash. In fact, the brothers must believe that all audiences – not just the urban/teen demo they are obviously aiming at – have the combined IQ of a loganberry. This story of an undersized criminal named Calvin and how he ended up playing baby for a weekend (in order to reclaim a diamond he had to ditch and….oh, never mind) is almost indecipherable. As such, you’d have to be brain dead to defend such illogical plotting, one dimensional characterization and aimless middle act meandering supposedly passing itself off as humor.

This is, without a doubt, the most joyless film released by a semi-major studio (Revolution) in recent memory. Nothing about the movie feels fun – not the noxious as rainbow-slicked lunchmeat premise, not the frequently flimsy special effects (something about Marlon as a midget is…well…just off) and definitely not the appalling amateurish acting. Constantly breaking character and playing random ages depending on the scene, our criminal “kid” Calvin is unstuck in slapstick time. Some moments, he’s a toddler. Sometimes, he’s clearly ready for grade school. That everyone is unable to see through his bad baby ruse creates one of Little Man’s several non-suspendable moments of dopey disbelief. If a couple of adults, staring at another adult’s privates, dismiss both his “maturity” and his pubic hair as normal (and let’s not talk about the doctor who gives this dwarf his ‘youngster’ seal of approval), then they deserve all the derision and ridicule that comes their way. Even worse, there is an implication that our ersatz ‘infant” has sex with his adoptive mother. In actuality, it’s a moment that’s MORE repugnant than it sounds.

In fact, there is a creepy undercurrent of child sexualization running all throughout Little Man, staining and soiling its farcical aspects. In a scene that’s supposed to be amusing, our mini-criminal, in full diaper and ‘da-da’ mode, frenches the holy Hell out of a dumb blond bimbo. Everyone’s reaction? Ummm…that’s unusual. No kidding. Then, when Calvin runs into his accomplice at the park (played with all the finesse of a foot cramp by Tracy Morgan), the skittish parents all ask the same question – “Did he try to touch you?” From another molestation mention to the ‘aforementioned morning’ after scene, all this carnal kiddie joking is just disturbing. But the Wayans don’t stop there. They offer their own unique hate take on white wannabes (former In Living Color co-star Kelly Coffield gets the dishonor of doing the stereotypical “Caucasian talking Ebonics” bit) as well as dissing the old and elderly (John Witherspoon is reduced to playing a one note old coot, lacking a single witty remark or rejoinder). In fact, it’s safe to say that this is a motion picture experience forged out of anger – the obvious antagonism of the filmmakers for the viewer, and the eventual reciprocal rage of the crowd.

As with all gimmick-based entertainments, the result is only as good as the gag. Yet Little Man is one of the rare cases where this maxim misses the point. The sight of Marlon Wayans miniaturized interests us for about 30 seconds. We look for the F/X flaws, and try to get lost in the device. Then we wonder if he’ll do anything clever or exciting with this unusual stature circumstance. Well, if you consider hitting people on the head with frying pans and plastic baseball bats witty, if you get all exhilarated watching a 34 year old actor mug shamelessly for the camera while cooing like a stunted spaz, then you’ll probably enjoy this unmitigated mess, and I’m sure the Wayans will spend your hard earned pennies well. Just don’t expect them to give you anything of substance in return. When the audience has to work several times harder than the cast to find any sort of pleasure or plausibility out of a premise, there’s no hope for redemption, or relief. Unless you want to waste 90 minute of your life, or feel the need to subject yourself to the latest example of miserable moviemaking masochism, avoid this horrid little turd of a film. Little Man deserves little respect.

.5 out of 10

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