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By Louis Boram
Kicking and Screaming (2005), Talladega Nights (2006), Blades of Glory (2007), and his latest exhibition, Semi-Pro, represent a taxonomic species within a devolving sub-genre in which the former SNL’er is the undisputed king of his domain: sports comedies celebrating the most contrary adaptation to survival mediocrity. Ferrell and his zany contemporaries Mike Myers, Ben Stiller, John C. Reilly to name a few think there’s something innately funny about 1970s American pop culture. Perhaps it was once fertile ground for hamming it up overtop the Me decade’s over-the-top colorful fashions and soulful music, á la TV's That '70s Show. In the now dispirited spirit of that decade’s classic rock anthems (“Freebird” and “Stairway to Heaven" come to mind), what was once harmless cultural fodder is spinning vexatious grooves through Ferrell’s own personalized format jocks engaging in repetitious jocular playback.
Ever the anything-to-put-butts-in-the-seats promoter/salesman, Moon, in an attempt to increase fan attendance and improve the Tropics’ chances for being included in the merger, devises increasingly outrageous promotions that put true fabled ‘70s pro sports promotions like “Ten Cent Beer Night” and “Disco Demolition Night” to shame. Team members coordinating fistfights with opponents, players wearing eye shadow, bogus free corndog giveaways, and bear wrestling are enough for Moon’s flamboyant publicity stunts to rival those of the most recognizable real-life bizarro sports promoter Chicago White Sox baseball owner Bill Veeck. When Moon’s desperate moves prove to be all for naught, team members are left to play only for each other and their pathetic pride (rousing speeches aspiring to fourth place). Prolonging the streak of uplifting sporting ne’er-do-wells begun in the ‘70s with the The Longest Yard (1974) and The Bad News Bears (1976), and extended into the ‘80s and ‘90s with Major League (1989) and Major League II (1994), Semi-Pro is about a group of dysfunctional losers who, unlike their predecessors, are all too unlovable. By far the most profane comedy that Ferrell has ever carried, considering the fondness the “tweener” aged audience has for his lowbrow brand of humor, it may be disarming for unsuspecting parents (Ferrell’s previous sports-themed flicks were PG and PG-13, as was 2003’s Elf) how abruptly obscene the R rated language is. (“No, he didn’t call you a jive turkey. He only called you a co***ucker.”) The anguished sex jokes echo the Tropics’ own air of desperation. Most noticeably, with the action shifted from the ice rink to the basketball court, Semi-Pro is either a wistful homage to, or an egregious rip-off of, Slap Shot (1977), starring Paul Newman, about a minor league hockey team that is likewise comprised of outlaw misfits playing on a semi-professional team in danger of disbanding. That movie, with its cult following of sorts, had its Three Stooges-inspired moments (you haven’t forgotten the Hanson Brothers, have you?) and one of the screen’s greatest movie stars advancing the action. Thirty years from now, there’s no shot anyone will be looking back on Semi-Pro with the same fondness we do with Bears and Slap Shot. You can bank it. Louis Boram
Screen Formats: 2.35:1
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