A Columbia Pictures Presentation of a Brad Grey/Bernie Prillstein Production; Executive Produced by Brad Grey and Bernie Brillstein; Produced by Mike Nichols, Gary Shandling and Neil Machlis; Co-Produced by Michele Imperato-Stabile; Written by Gary Shandling & Michael Lesson and Ed Solomon and Peter Tolan; Directed by Mike Nichols Opens March 3, 2000
Gary Shandling's new vehicle What Planet Are You From? is aptly named, since half way through the movie many people may start asking this question about the folks who gave this farce a green light. Described by Columbia as a "cosmic battle of the sexes", the movie fails to pay off either the alien or the sexual perspective. Instead, it comes off as a sophomoric one-note joke about male anatomy. No doubt, some people will find this hilarious.
Die-hard fans of Shandling especially are likely to find much to like because Shandling is indeed at his dead-pan best here. Unfortunately his delivery isn't really in sync with the energy of this film. You expect someone more earnest, more noble, more "Tom Hanks" in this role. As the opening crawl of the film tells us, Shandling's Harold comes from a planet of intellectually superior men who long ago lost their sexual organs and their ability to procreate. (This alone made one section of the screening audience burst out laughing.) Harold's planet's only goal is to conquer the universe, a feat that their Leader (Ben Kingsley) expects to accomplish by sending one man to earth to impregnate a woman. That is, after he has a penis attached.
Of course, when you really examine this flimsy premise, it makes no sense at all. Why will having an earth baby help Harry's planet conquer earth? Indeed, as the film progresses, this idea seems more and more flimsy to the point that the issue of conquest is completely forgotten. Ah, you realize, this movie is just an excuse for Shandling to "do his thing." It's too bad that his thing isn't that funny. Example: We spend twenty minutes watching him try unsuccessfully (and supposedly humorously) to come on to women - " Hi, I'm Harold. You have nice shoes. Can I put my penis in you now?".
Harold gets much of his dating etiquette from work buddy Perry (Greg Kinear), a sleazy sort who goes to AA meetings to pick up tearful women. Ironically, it's at one of these meetings that Harold meets Susan (Annette Benning), a quirky soul who falls for Harold's awkward but seemingly honest nature. Harold targets Susan for his mission, going so far as to marry her when she says she won't have sex until she's wed. This scenario and many of the ensuing events make for some uncomfortable situations, especially because Harold comes off as a real bastard, acting just like any other guy to get in Susan's pants. Maybe the point is that all men are "aliens" when it comes to love and care-giving, but you'd think the writers could have come up with something better.
Perhaps the writers realized how flimsy their plot was because they tried to insert some real conflict by adding a silly sidebar plot line with John Goodman as an FAA investigator checking into several mysterious airplane appearances by Harold. But plot aside, let's get down to the nitty-gritty. This is a comedy, right? So, it's supposed to be funny. Well, it's unlikely that there has been a comedy in recent memory where the jokes were so painfully manufactured. Granted, there are a few moments of honest humor that are truly grounded in the situations. Mostly though, the events and jokes in this script - courtesy of Shandling and his partner Leeson as well as writers Ed Solomon and Peter Tolan - are utterly one-dimensional.
Whether it's the descriptions of the "modern earth woman" - she likes you to complement her shoes and to listen to her, which you do by saying "uh-huh" between her sentences - or Harold's cheap courtship of Susan, the scenes play out like banal TV sketches. Then there's the way Harold's penis hums whenever he gets excited. This one really gets old fast. And finally the most puerile joke of all: When Graydon visits Harold, they rendezvous in airplane lavatories. When Graydon leaves, he flushes himself down the toilet. Ah, the true meaning of "toilet humor".
The real question that arises is how did all this talent - including director Mike Nichols - get suckered by such a vapid project. Perhaps, to be kind, the story line came off as more endearing, more clever in written form. What is for certain is the fact that the film's title may be its downfall. "What planet were we coming from?" is the question everyone involved should be asking themselves.