Volunteer comedians across America prod Martin
into coming out of his "Happy Delusion House"
to take his daily dose of "funny pills."

Cheaper by the Dozen
Review written by: Alex Sandell

With all the bored parents dragging their beleaguered children along to crummy movies ― rather than buying them a Nintendo, or taking them to Disneyworld ― you'd think the stench of shit would be waffing from dozens of soiled Pampers, rather than the movie being shown on the screen.  But the stink in the auditorium was bad, and the majority of infants seemed to be "holding it" (outside of this one in the ninth row, who just loudly let it rip, "writing" a better review of Cheaper by the Dozen than any critic ever could), proving that the smell was coming from somewhere a tiny bit less cute than a baby's bottom. 

Cheaper by the Dozen is a real steamer.  Like a trip to White Castle, after being a vegetarian for 15 years.  Did you actually enjoy consuming this crap, or did you donate your sense of taste and smell, that day?  Dozen had a funky reek similar to a half-rotted John Hughes.  Not the God-like Hughes behind teen classics such as The Breakfast Club and Ferris Bueller's Day Off.  Not even the Hughes behind quality "grown-up" comedy along the lines of Planes, Trains & Automobiles and National Lampoon's Vacation.  This film sweats out the sellout John Hughes who sold his name to trashy "family" crap like Curly Sue and Dennis the Menace. 

But little Johnny Hughes couldn't be found within spitting distance of this picture.  And that provides no excuse for Steve Martin to be starring in it.  At least, if Hughes was involved, Martin could have said, "it was nice to team-up, once again."  But, instead, Martin simply has to say, "hey —— I used to be 'wild and crazy, and now my agent is just friggin' nuts!" 

I liked Steve Martin from the beginning.  Way back in the 70s, when grocery stores sold record albums, and Wal-Mart didn't rule the world, I begged and begged my mother to buy me a record from some guy named "Martin, Steve."  He had an arrow through his head.  It had to hit his brain, right?  Now this was a record that I had to hear.  My mom finally relented, and I put it on my Fisher-Price turntable.  I laughed and laughed and laughed.  And then, after laughing a lot, I started crying, because the record became all scratchy, and I could no longer listen to it.  

But my love of Martin's comedy wasn't even close to dying.  I found a book my grandfather had bought (for some unknown reason) stashed away in his basement.  I read it.  I laughed and laughed and laughed.  And then, after laughing a lot, I started crying, because I knew the book was over, and it wouldn't be nearly as funny the second time.  So where to go from here?  How about buying into a gimmick?  Martin released Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid.  It incorporated classic scenes from old B&W films, and I thought it was a real gas.  My Aunt said, "I just can't figure out how they did those effects.  They were revolutionary."  I just thought the movie was funny, and I should probably get my aunt's approval, before putting in her now dated quote.

Then we were given The Man with Two Brains.  Like Dead Men, it was no classic, but it provided plenty of laughs.  This dude with the arrow through his head was proving his worth as a movie star.  Three Amigos came next.  I attended that film with my younger brother and my aunt.  We all thought it was funny, even though my aunt no longer thought the effects looked revolutionary.  Looking back on Three Amigos now, I realize it was only mediocre, but it still has its moments.  Something Cheaper by the Dozen doesn't.

But mediocre wasn't Martin, and he had a crowing achievement up his sleeve.  In 1987 I finally developed a life, sort of, and attended Roxanne with, not my aunt or my brother, but with my good friend, Don, and his girlfriend, whom I had a horrendous crush on, Shauna (doesn't "Don & Shauna" sound like the title to some sort of 80s pop song?).  This was a great movie.  If his last few films are any indication, Roxanne will go down in history as Martin's best movie ever.  And I did kiss Shauna once, when Don was out getting us cigarettes (back then, theaters had ashtrays and cigarette machines, and minors could smoke pretty much anywhere they wanted to.  And urine was made out of real gold.).  Sorry, Don.  There was no "tongue" involved.  Well, maybe a little.  It sort of slips itself involuntarily in.

Then I concentrated on the tongues of females, until Martin came out with L.A. Story.  I liked the film, but it was pretty "L.A.-centric," and I lived out in the boondocks, so many of the clever and witty jokes went over my head.  Either that or they went in one ear, over the luscious tongue of my date, and out the other.  Regardless, I thought the film was boring, but Martin still had some of his old spark. 

Those Father of the Bride things came out around this time.  I try to ignore them, only to be polite.  Why?  BECAUSE THEY SUCKED!  Even the films they were REMAKING sucked!  I'd rather suck face... with my grandmother. 

In A Simple Twist of Fate, Martin went fairly serious.  The film wasn't really overrated or underrated.  It was a film not worth paying to watch, but worth a watch on television.  I think I was a loser again, by the time the movie made it to cable.  Why?  Because I watched the film by myself, after drinking at least 5 really strong foreign beers.  That would explain why I was laughing during the melodramatic moments.  Stupid strong foreign beers mixing up my emotions. 

Martin went the comedy route again with Bowfinger.  As much as I want to lie and say I attended it with my stripper girlfriend, I actually attended it with my friend, Dave, who once dated a stripper.  Well, at least she gave him a lap-dance.  I think he had to pay her.  And he was really drunk.  And she said she loved him and to dump his current real girlfriend so she could meet him at the mall the next day.  He dumped his current real girlfriend, and the stripper never showed up.  She was about $1,000.00 richer, though.  This (somehow) brings me back to Bowfinger.  It was way over hyped.  It was the last good Steve Martin comedy, but it didn't even approach the realm of "great."  My friend getting screwed over by a manipulative stripper may actually be funnier.

Was Steve Martin done?

Almost...

He still had some Novocaine in him.  I went and saw this at some art house theater back in '00 or '01.  It was marketed as a "dark comedy."  Unfortunately, it wasn't very dismal, and was only sporadically funny.  Even though it's already approximately three years old, I'm sadly guessing that I will consider this Martin's last movie worth watching.  Oh, good gawd the crap he's starred in during 2003.  From Bringing down the House to Looney Tunes:  Back in Action to this cheap thing about dozens of brats.  By starring in three of the worst comedies of the year, Steve Martin has officially turned himself into the Anti-Comic.

Cheaper by the Dozen is going for every possible demographic it can sucker in.  First and foremost, with its puke jokes and vasectomy jokes, it's going for the "family" audience (whatever bunch of sick folk they've turned out to be).  It's also going for the "tweens" by featuring Hilary Duff, a teen-idol who's playing the exact same role that made her a teen-idol back on the Disney Channel.  And then we hope to pull in the "teen" audience with Tom Welling.  If you woke up yesterday, Welling is the ex-model who has never read the Superman comics, but plays the boy on TV.  He's like a young Keanu Reeves, without all the emoting.

But Welling isn't the only bad actor in this production.  Steve Martin is running on fumes - "running" possibly being too strong a word.  Hilary Duff is as cutesy as ever; She's like a cute button that actually knows how cute it is.  Her almost impossible level of calculated cuteness quickly becomes something ugly.  Then there's a bunch of kids who essentially vandalize the hell out of their father's home and somehow get away with it.  You can put all of them in the, "seen one to many Home Alone movies" category of acting.  The only person to make this film more than a gigantic sitcom is Bonnie Hunt.  Her role could have been swirled out on an etch-a-sketch, but she gave it her all, nonetheless.  It's too bad that she's the only person in the film that didn't take the entire thing for granted.  And the people behind the film, what where they thinking?

Craig Titley, mastermind behind works of art such as the live-action Scooby-Doo and See Spot Run, which I didn't bother to do, when it was released in 2001, has a mess of a remake on his hands in Cheaper by the Dozen.  The only similarity to the old movie and this film is the fact that there are 12 children.  Instead of adding any heart and soul to his story, he adds mayhem and havoc.  Director John Whitesell is guilty of making this feel like an overlong sitcom.  How could he not?  The guy's worked on shows such as So Downtown, Blossom, Grounded For Life, and Raising Dad.  Did any of these last for more than a season ― outside of Blossom?  Yikes. 

But I'll end this review on an up note, for Christmas:  Hilary Duff can't be cute forever, Craig Titley only has so much wool, and it won't be long before he runs out of the stuff, and will no longer be able to pull it over Hollywood's eyes, Steve Martin can't have permanently lost his funny-bone, and maybe, one day, if she isn't busy filming Cheaper by the Dozen 2, Bonnie Hunt will receive a role worthy of her talent.  Happy Holidays!

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