THE NEXT BEST THING
Regardless of any comparison between the two leads, it's hard
to get around the fact that the script, by Tom Ropelewski, is
weak at best. First, it is almost the identical same story as
the 1998 Jennifer Aniston/Paul Rudd vehicle The
Object Of My Affection. And while this film has arguably
more star power, its title is unfortunately appropriate: Object
did it better on most counts. Ropelewski's plot is feasible enough,
but his dialogue has people saying things no human being would
ever say in such situations, and there are many instances of deliberate
emotional pandering. A story that moves one to tears can be a
wonderful thing, but it's off-putting when that effect is being
sought for its own sake.
Abbie (Madonna) is a San Francisco yoga instructor; her best
friend Robert (Everett) is a live-in gardener for two aging gay
gentlemen. After his partner's death a few years ago, Robert has
not had much of a love life, and now that her boyfriend (Michael
Vartan) is breaking up with her, Abbie has no one, either. The
two of them get together and, with the help of some potent wine,
have one sexual encounter. Just when they are trying to decide
how this event will affect their long-time platonic friendship,
she discovers she's pregnant. She is unsure of what Robert's reaction
will be, but is delighted when he chooses to fully assume the
role of father to the baby, even though the two know they will
never marry.
Cut to 6 years later. Abbie and Robert have made a comfortable
life together and their son Sam (Malcolm Stumpf) seems like a
fun, intelligent, and well-adjusted kid. The trouble happens when
Abbie meets Ben (Benjamin Bratt, Law and Order), a handsome,
friendly investment banker with whom she establishes an instant
rapport. Robert, who has given up his most recent lover because
Sam was more important to him, is not particularly impressed by
this genial interloper, but Ben's growing relationship with Abbie
(and with Sam) culminates in their decision to marry. Robert's
reaction results in a rash act by Abbie, which in turn leads to
litigation. And it seemed like such a good idea way back when.
Rupert Everett saves this movie. Madonna and Stumpf are adequate,
but unable to compensate for the script defects the way Everett
seems to. (Incidentally, rumor has it that Everett did major rewrites
to Ropelewski's text, causing some behind-the-scenes tension.)
At first he seems bound to play Robert as a mincing queen, but
when the situation gets tough, he drops the hilarity and shows
us a man whose world is crumbling before his eyes. Bratt, on the
other hand, is barely able to convince us of anything but his
good looks. Ben is supposed to be so charming as to sweep Abbie
off her feet, to draw her away from her lifelong friend and trusted
partner, but Bratt does not possess the personality to pull it
off. Sure, he's buff, but it's crucial that Abbie not look shallow
in choosing him — and Bratt's performance gives her no other
choice.
This film has many things going for it, not the least of which is the beautiful cinema by Elliot Davis (Forces Of Nature) and heartfelt, if spotty, performances by supporting cast members, including Neil Patrick Harris, Lynn Redgrave, and Illeana Douglas. Also there is Madonna's enjoyable rendition of Don McLean's "American Pie," a song that is featured throughout the film. But with textual flaws and stilted performances by some key performers, and an apparent inability on the part of director Schlesinger to deal with these problems, it's not exactly the best thing to hit the theatres lately. ***½