(AOTN) There’s something about some of Marlon Wayans’ career choices this decade that could understandably be seen as “frustrating.” The youngest of the Wayans brothers has demonstrated a great knack for physical comedy (the first two entries in the Scary Movie franchise and even the goofy yet riotous White Chicks) and an equally impressive potential as a serious actor (his dramatic turn in Requiem for a Dream), but his latest – the declining Haunted House movies and the abysmal Fifty Shades of Black, which actually managed to make the series it’s spoofing look like Last Tango in Paris by comparison – are a an embarrassing nose dive in comedic standard. Enter Michael Tiddes’ Naked, not the 1993 Cannes winner by Mike Leigh, Netflix’s latest comedic offering and a breath of stale air that actually manages to find a hint of freshness and showcase some of the good qualities of Mr. Wayans (in numerous ways).
If you’ve seen Groundhog Day or Edge of Tomorrow, you know exactly what to expect, just with more male nudity filling up the screen. Mr. Wayans’ hapless “hero” Rob is a prep school substitute teacher – with a sloth’s ambition and a tenured college professor who won’t retire’s intelligence – visiting South Carolina to marry his loving fiancée Megan (Regina Hall, another Scary Movie alum), despite the wishes of her hard-nosed father (an always reliable if underutilized Dennis Haysbert), her more successful ex Cody (a smug Scott Foley) and his petty ex Vicky (Eliza Coupe), who also happens to be Megan’s maid of honor. On the day of, instead of being dogged by paranormal activities and E.L. James’ ideas of how whips and Ben Wa balls are used to distract from an obviously awful relationship, Rob falls victim by a merciless time loop that repeatedly has him waking up naked as the day he was born, and milking the title for every joke it’s worth, in a broken hotel elevator across town and the entire wedding party impatiently waiting at the church. Over the course of the hour before the church bells reset the loop and with what little help best man Benny (a humorous J.T. Jackson) can offer, Rob has to escape the hotel, find something modest to wear, earn the respect of the disapproving Swope patriarch, unmask the villain that set things in motion and save the day by saying “I do,” all before his chanteuse mother (Loretta Devine, putting her still Broadway ready velvety pipes to good use) runs through every gospel song in the book and drives the remaining guests away.
Unlike the aforementioned “parodies” that made up earlier Wayans-Tiddes collaborations, Naked isn’t a directionless spoof but a remake of a Swedish film that never got stateside distribution (and was itself derided as an awful Groundhog Day imitation), so the two are already off to a better start. Having never seen the original (or even being aware of it prior to its update’s ending credits), it’s impossible to say if this Americanized version surpasses the original, but what is ending up on every TV screen and computer monitor is certainly something, for better and worse. Mr. Wayans and Mr. Tiddes, alongside regular collaborator Rick Alvarez and newcomer Cory Koller, take their gift-wrapped premise and fire on all the cylinders they have to occasional success and a lot of misses. One such success comes in the second act where Rob, after arriving in a slew of inappropriate outfits and costumes, decides to borrow a conveniently fitting tux from Cody, leading to a repetitious fight sequence where he’s able to study what his nemesis will do and say, ending on a genuinely humorous and unexpected note. It’s an idea that’s been used time and time before, but it works. And the scenes between Mr. Wayans and Ms. Hall offer some heart and depth to give enough reason to root for a happy ending.
But an amusing premise and a reliable ensemble anchored by a charismatic lead doesn’t make a film, especially one that makes no effort to explain its fantastical elements (and with a premise like Naked, there needs to be a point to explain why this situation of all situations warrants a time loop) and relies on plot points that have all but beaten the “cliché” horse to death. It’s also a film, much like their other three collaborations, that ultimately pays extensive homage to (and unabashedly fetishizes) Mr. Wayans’ physique. That is a double-edged sword: Mr. Wayans has an impressive kept body, he knows his audience and what they like when it comes to him and his comedy, but it gets to a point where the jokes wear thin in a hurry and not even what he does physically to keep attention spans gets even a small chuckle. The primary issues of Naked are also on display in another Netflix comedy from earlier this year: the Happy Madison produced Sandy Wexler. Much like this film, Adam Sandler’s cinematic tribute to talent manager Sandy Wernick, was a film that plays to its superstar lead’s strengths and sure to appease the fans, but it adds nothing to their talent and ultimately comes off as a tired retread when there’s still so much more to offer. But unlike that film, Naked makes wise use of its lean run time instead of overstaying its welcome around the 100 minute mark.
When all’s said and done, Naked is far from the worst way one could spend their night “Netflixing and chilling;” it’s amusing enough, even a little charming and sure to give plenty of the audience a front row seat to Marlon Wayans’ body and talent with a handful of physical jokes. It’s just something we’ve seen from him plenty of times before and something that should have been paired with a stronger project.
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