Review of She's Funny That Way (2015) by John K — 30 Aug 2015

It's no secret that Peter Bogdanovich probably wishes he were born the same year as Howard Hawks so he could have directed Katharine Hepburn and Cary Grant in "Bringing Up Baby" himself. His love of the screwball comedy is unparalleled by most American directors - to pay homage to the subgenre is an experience unlike any other. Just look at 1972's "What's Up, Doc?": you can hardly deny just how well he redoes what Ernst Lubitsch did best during The Great Depression. Most turn toward the earth shattering "The Last Picture Show" and the winsome "Paper Moon" when listing off Bogdanovich's greatest films, but I tend to prefer him at his most playful, when he's attempting to make something so special we may as well start comparing it to, ahem, the Hollywood Golden Age.

He's most at ease when he's paying tribute to the films that defined his childhood - something about his films glow when they play out with the same luster of all those Rogers/Astaire, Hepburn/Grant, Bogie/Bacall partnerships. It's as if his inner child is peeking out from beneath the surface of the celluloid, pinching himself every time he remembers that the artists that mean the most to him were doing the exact same thing just a few generations ago. Ever since he peaked forty or so years back, he's mostly been a hit-or-miss filmmaker, his last picture being 2001's slight but entertaining "The Cat's Meow". His overdue latest, "She's Funny That Way," should have been advertised as a comeback special worthy of everyone's attention - but it has, unfortunately, been thrown into the confines of the dreaded video-on-demand market, an entertainment system that all but suggests a film is any good. Considering its mixed reviews, I was expecting "She's Funny That Way" to be a depressing reminder of a once-great talent's fading directorial prowess; so it's a pleasant surprise that it is, in reality, a frothy screwball comedy darker than the wonderful "What's Up, Doc?" but just as effortlessly complicated and witty.

It's a series of misunderstandings so well-constructed and so cheekily written one could swear it would be a hit if it were directed by an up-and-comer. It zooms around the ever-knotty pre-production of playwright Joshua Fleet's (Will Forte) latest play, a marriage drama directed by the renowned Arnold Albertson (Owen Wilson) and starring his wife, Delta Simmons (Kathryn Hahn). The leading actor of the production, the legendary Seth Gilbert (Rhys Ifans), irks Arnold tremendously - the man once had an affair with his wife, after all. But such immaterial matters would hardly cause a ruckus in the perpetually ruckus-filled screwball comedy; the real ruckus, you see, is caused by Izzy Beatty (Imogen Poots), a call-girl who auditions for a supporting part in the play and gets it. But the problem isn't so much that Izzy is call-girl as it is that she is a call-girl that slept with Arnold just a day before production started; Arnold, as it turns out, gets his kicks by taking hookers out to dinner, sleeping with them, and then paying them $30,000 to stop prostituting and start life anew. He's a creep, if you ask me, but he likens himself to your average good samaritan. Then, the plot thickens so immensely I would risk destroying the delightful complexities Bogdanovich and Louise Stratten paint so well with their endlessly creative pens - "She's Funny That Way" is thoroughly delectable, its banter unequaled by mainstream comedies as of late.

It feels like an under-appreciated gem that will slowly but surely gain respect as it ages with minuscule notice: just look at how Bogdanovich's widely reviled "They All Laughed" was frowned at upon release but is now considered a minor masterpiece by some critics in serious film circles. Bogdanovich doesn't always hit, but "She's Funny That Way" sees him at his most confident: he's played the game of the screwball comedy before, and this time he plans to come out a winner, not an underdog. And though most see him as the unfortunate underdog at the moment, I see him as an unrecognized hero, a veteran still infused with the excitement of his younger days.

And the ensemble is just as fresh - it is one of the best Bogdanovich has ever assembled. Forget about Ryan O'Neal and Barbra Streisand; this cast fits Bogdanovich's vision as well as they ever did. Poots, doing her best Babs impression, is hopelessly agreeable as a hooker with a heart of gold who happens to have a lot of acting talent and who happens to have a big mouth; Wilson, who is either the protagonist or the antagonist depending on how you view serial cheating and not-charming neurotics, fits the bill well as the schmuck who faces karma head-on without a wink of defense. Underrated comedy talent Hahn sizzles as the hilariously moody Delta, and Aniston, who gives an outstanding performance here, steals the entire movie as the therapist from Hell who seems to enjoy showing up at the wrong places at the completely wrong times for the sake of shrill (but amusing) witchery.

I want to say that there are a million things wrong with "She's Funny That Way," but I can't seem to think of anything - it's a blast, through and through. I suppose it isn't laugh-out-loud funny, but that hardly matters because it's funny in the way that the characters speak a million-miles-an-hour and how everything, and I mean everything, seems to go wrong for nearly everyone involved. It will be a joy for Bogdanovich allies; the cynics can go bitterly compare it to his earlier classics to their barren blogs to vent as they prevent themselves from an enjoyment that doesn't agree with the majority.