FILMREVIEW

20th Century Fox

Fans of I Love Lucy, rejoice: Lucille Ball has been reincarnated, and she goes by the name Ray Romano. Like his (and her) hit CBS sitcom, Romano’s first foray into the world of live action movies is straight out of the 1950s, in ways both amiably amusing and jarringly old-fashioned.

With less fanfare but nearly equal ratings, Romano’s derivatively titled Everybody Loves Raymond has set itself up as television’s anti-Friends. Where Friends focuses on sex-obsessed singles in glamorous New York City, Romano’s sitcom household seems to be located in Eisenhower-era suburbs. His character lives with a nagging stay-at-home wife and wholesome children who emerge from their rooms only occasionally to star in the school play or participate in some sort of sports championship.

The old-school formula has worked tremendously for Romano—TV’s highest paid actor, he’s currently making $1.8 million per episode of Raymond—and in attempting a film career he has wisely chosen to transport his down-to-earth persona from the small screen to the big one.

Welcome to Mooseport finds Romano in the role of Handy Harrison, a small-town plumber whose most ambitious plans involve buying a new pick-up. As Handy’s long-suffering girlfriend of six years, Sally, Maura Tierney does a great impression of Patricia Heaton, Romano’s similarly impatient TV wife.

Mooseport and Handy’s relationship are shaken up by the tumultuous arrival of the recently retired U.S. President, a Clinton-hating, Yale-loving jerk named Monroe “Eagle” Cole (Gene Hackman). Through a series of mind-numbing mix-ups (the less said, the better), Handy and the ex-president end up running against each other in the town’s mayoral race. Soon they’re playing a round of golf to decide not only their respective political futures, but who gets to date Sally.

If this all sounds rather silly and outdated, it is. Except for the president’s Karl Rove-like political advisor, Mooseport’s plot and characters could all have been written half a century ago. While the movie’s male figures are all bumbling egotists, their female counterparts’ common sense and perpetual looks of exasperation are just as boring and one-dimensional. Marcia Gay Harden gives the film’s best performance in the single scene that allows her to show a little personality. Christine Baranski, who must be getting sick of playing vengeful, money-grubbing ex-wives, is amusing as ever as the president’s (brace yourself) vengeful, money-grubbing ex-wife.

Despite the film’s shortcomings in the area of character development, its good-natured tone and sitcom-simple story make it pleasant enough while it’s onscreen. But in one significant way, Mooseport diverges from its Leave It to Beaver sensibilities, and not by treating complicated social problems or political challenges authentically or intelligently.

Indeed, Mooseport manages to do just the opposite, ultimately telling its audience that government is best left to cheats and liars. After all, it asks, why shouldn’t they be given power if they want it so badly? It’s a message that dovetails nicely with the film’s in-your-face easygoingness, but one that seems distastefully simpleminded near the start of an election year that is likely to be one of America’s most ugliest and most bitter. The formula has an obvious escapist appeal—one which may propel Romano to movie stardom—but should he ever want my vote for mayor, he’s going to have to do better than this.

—Nathan K. Burstein