NRO Weekend, June 24-25, 2000
Jim Carrey's First Love
Reviewing Me, Myself, and Irene.

By Ben Domenech, NRO contributing editor

he directorial team of Bobby and Peter Farrelly, who've been responsible for such masterpieces of vulgar comic genius as Dumb and Dumber, Kingpin, and There's Something About Mary, have allied themselves once more with comedian Jim Carrey to produce Me, Myself, and Irene, sure to be a summer hit.

Carrey, who has invested time recently in more serious endeavors (The Truman Show and Man on the Moon are wonderful examples of Carrey's range as a performer), returns to his home turf with this film, which leaves the lines of decency behind just seconds into the first reel.

The script, originally written ten years ago and refreshed once Carrey signed on, allows the Farrellys to utilize the full abilities of their star performer. Carrey is a tall, flexible actor, perfectly built for the kind of larger-than-life physical comedy that would seem more at home in cartoon form. Carrey plays the part of Charlie, a nice, naïve cop who allows just about everyone to walk all over him. One day, though, Charlie snaps, and a bullying alter-ego named Hank emerges to vie for control of Charlie's life. Charlie is kind, sweet, and polite — Hank is tough, nasty, and sex-obsessed. When Charlie/Hank is assigned to protect Irene (Renee Zellweger) who's been targeted by her psycho ex-boyfriend, get ready to cue the schizophrenic wackiness.

Zellwegger, who hasn't had a significantly impressive role since her breakout performance in Jerry Maguire, is in fine form here, as are Anthony Anderson, Mongo Brownlee, and Jerod Mixon, who play Carrey's three street-talking, hyperintelligent black sons, all with a penchant for interspersing algebraic theories with obscenity. Carrey is back to his classic rubber-faced style: With the arrival of Hank, Carrey delivers a great exaggerated Dirty Harry-inspired vocal sneer (obscure movie facts: Carrey had a role in the last film vehicle for the classic Eastwood character, The Dead Pool).

The film is overlong, and lags badly at some points, where you start to wonder whether the Farrellys had a grossout-joke quota to fill — but when it comes to physical comedy, Carrey has never been better. This reviewer's one complaint: Where are the Farrellys' infamous wandering minstrels?