A Night at the Roxbury Review

by Scott Renshaw (renshaw AT inconnect DOT com)
October 2nd, 1998

A NIGHT AT THE ROXBURY
(Paramount)
Starring: Will Ferrell, Chris Kattan, Molly Shannon, Richard Grieco, Dan Hedaya.
Screenplay: Will Ferrell & Chris Kattan and Steve Koren. Producers: Amy Heckerling and Lorne Michaels.
Director: John Fortenberry.
MPAA Rating: PG-13 (sexual situations, adult themes, profanity) Running Time: 83 minutes.
Reviewed by Scott Renshaw.

    As evidence of my exodus from the Land of Hip, I offer the confession that it's been about three years since I've seen an episode of "Saturday Night Live." I gave up on producer Lorne Michaels 'round about the time he was turning "SNL" sketches into hideous excuses for feature films, from THE CONEHEADS (shudder) to STUART SAVES HIS FAMILY (shudder shudder) to IT'S PAT (full grand mal seizure). The show that used to be cutting edge had turned into a pop culture butter knife: dull and pointless.
    If A NIGHT AT THE ROXBURY is any indication, I haven't missed much from "SNL" other than an attempt to recapture past glory by regurgitating old premises. Steve (Will Ferrell) and Doug Butabi (Chris Kattan), the socially intept, utterly oblivious night-clubbing L.A. siblings whose attempts to "score" from one of the film's plot lines, are pretty familiar creations. The Butabis are basically a post-disco gloss on the Czechoslovakian brothers played by Dan Aykroyd and Steve Martin twenty years ago, they of the wide-open shirt collars and "wild and crazy guys" finger-pointing. Only the lingo appears to have changed. You say tomato, I say tomahto; you say "foxes," I say "babes."

    I'm not suggesting that a film based on the Czechoslovakian brothers necessarily would have been funnier than this one. It's almost axiomatic at this point that trying to turn a five minute sketch into a full-length feature is a very, very bad idea (particularly when those five minute sketches are only funny for the first two). The fact is, it's briefly amusing watching the Butabis' synchronized head-swaying to the beat, or listening to them spew out decrepit pick-up lines. But the rest of A NIGHT AT THE ROXBURY demonstrates exactly what kills sketch-to-feature concepts: once the sketch material is exhausted, you've got to humanize characters that are much funnier as broad caricatures. Doug and Steve, even though they still live at home with their parents (Dan Hedaya and Loni Anderson), are really guys with a dream to create their own nightclub with the help of Roxbury owner Mr. Zadir (an uncredited Chazz Palminteri). Do you think the Czechoslovakian brothers would be hysterical as earnest immigrants who decide to clean up their act and improve their English skills?

    When A NIGHT AT THE ROXBURY isn't just plain boring, it's actually kinda sad. In case the taut visage of Loni Anderson wasn't frightening enough, the film wheels out Richard Grieco as himself, doughy and mascara-covered. The idea that Grieco still carries enough clout to get our loser protagonists into the ultra-exclusive Roxbury is one of the film's best jokes; Dana Carvey would have dismissed him in an old "SNL" sketch with an admonition to "wait at the bar." It's nearly as sad watching other "SNL" cast members (Molly Shannon, Colin Quinn, Mark McKinney) turn up as though they were in need of Lorne Michaels' charity. And it's saddest of all being a member of the audience watching the script scramble in search of a concept on which to hang something vaguely humorous, and watching director John Fortenberry's clunky comic pacing.
    Ultimately, there are about five decent laughs and another handful of chuckles in A NIGHT AT THE ROXBURY, and I was counting those in the stony audience around me, not my own. I'll give Ferrell and Kattan credit for a clever combo-poke at SAY ANYTHING... and THE GRADUATE, and I'll give major credit to the music supervisor for coming up with great song cues for a number of scenes. Otherwise, A NIGHT AT THE ROXBURY continues two noteworthy "Saturday Night Live" traditions: loser brothers infatuated with trendy night-spots, and generally unwatchable feature films. Looks like I could pick up right where I left off.

    On the Renshaw scale of 0 to 10 Rox-burieds: 3.

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