If Lucy Fell(1996)- User Reviews

In support of the time worn adage that a whole is more than simply the sum of its parts, I present as evidence "If Lucy Fell". A worthy descendant of screwball romantic comedies of the 1930s such as "Nothing Sacred", this film, firmly entrenched in a 1990s aesthetic, presents sharply drawn stereotypes with eventually abundant charm and a voracious need for love who find themselves in a seemingly hopeless and Machiavellianly whimsical dilemma of their own making.

Eric Schaeffer (who writes, directs and stars in this vehicle) is no Cary Grant or Clark Gable-- he's barely a Danny Kaye-- but he exudes a certain charm as an "eccentric" artist, Joe, that eventually endears him to the audience. A more immediate reaction may be an overwhelming desire to smack some sense into him for indulging in his five-year, unrequited mooning over a stilted Elle MacPherson, who is no Carole Lombard herself. Still, his off-beat coiffures, lousy paintings, and irreconcilable leggings allow him to sit at least at the rear of the pantheon of lovably bizarre little Hollywood miscreants.

The comedic meat of this film is in the clumsily asexual mating dance performed by Sarah Jessica Parker and Ben Stiller. Parker exudes a palpable if confused charm as an oft-befuddled, at times gonzo psychologist, Lucy, who wishes to fulfill a suicide pact on her 30th birthday by hurling herself off of the Brooklyn Bridge. If you can get past the point of wanting to push her over the edge yourself, she can't help but grow on you in this pre-"Sex and the City" part that vaguely recalls what must be the adult version of the angst-ridden adolescent she created on TV's "Square Pegs".

Stiller has a field day as Bwick Elias, a stereotypical whack-o, overly-intellectual and under-talented painter whose persona (far more than his artwork) has vaulted him to the top of the New York art world. Stiller preens and poses as the vain and shallow Elias, utters allegedly profound and poetic monosyllables, paints in an anal aggressive manner reminiscent of Basquiat, and generally chews the scenery. One can see the seeds of over-the-top Stiller characters like Zoolander beginning to sprout here.

In a weird Seinfeldian way, we almost can't help but truly like these unlikable urban misanthropes. The characters are quirky, self-destructive, high-strung, and addled, saddled with low self-esteem and riddled with all of the agonizing, gut-gnawing angst that accompanies their success. They likely all suffer from ADD, SAD, CFS, and any other syndrome or disorder upon which it was trendy to blame their personal problems in the 1990s. They're painfully obvious, completely oblivious, irritably needy (both emotionally and sexually), and amazingly mainstream in a film that would ostensibly want them to be so much more interesting, sensitive, intelligent, and urbane than they actually are.

In other words, they're a lot like most of us, and viewers are likely to see many of their own unwanted character traits, unfulfilled desires, and personal flaws in some or all of these odd little characters in much the same way that we delight in seeing our darker sides mirrored in the greed, selfishness, and envy of Daffy Duck.

"If Lucy Fell" is a guilty pleasure, and a much better film on the whole than an evaluation of any of its parts would indicate. It doesn't examine the best inside any of us, but like all screwball romantic comedies-- even mildly dark ones about suicide pacts-- it's still somehow wholly satisfying when our two predestined, starcrossed lovers finally overcome the odds and the screenwriters and inevitably hook up.

Oh-- and look for a young Scarlett Johanssen among Joe's art students!