Little Fockers : Movie Review


Watching Little Fockers is a depressing experience. Rarely does a comedy bring such an overpowering sense of sadness. Admittedly, I laughed a few times and am willing to admit that the experience as a whole was more bearable than the trial of sitting through Meet the Fockers, but that doesn't alleviate my fundamental reaction: this is perhaps the most dispiriting motion picture of the holiday season. It's all about Robert De Niro. Once, in what seems to have been another lifetime, De Niro was considered by many to be the greatest living actor. That was before he started dabbling in comedy. It didn't take long for the novelty value to wear off. Now, like Leslie Nielsen, he has become impossible to take seriously. With this year's Stone, it appeared there might yet be hope for De Niro to return to acting. Little Fockers has shattered that hope. In many ways, it represents a new low for De Niro, a level of embarrassment to which I never thought I would see him sink. Watching his third outing as lunatic father Jack Byrnes, I embraced the reality that the De Niro of Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, and Goodfellas is dead. All we have left is this bloated self-parody. Talk about a harsh dose of reality. (De Niro, it should be noted, is complicit in the immolation of his image - he's listed as a producer, as he was for Meet the Parents and Meet the Fockers.)

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Author : James Berardinelli