‘Why are you slapping that monkey?’
Night at the Museum should be a terrible movie. The prospect of a CGI-driven family film fills me with dread. Ben Stiller, who I saw last in the lazy Madagascar, is entirely capable of producing either the best work of his career, or a phoned in performance within an indifferent comedy. The omens weren’t good for this one, and when The Guardian gave it one star, stating it was more like ‘Dark night of the soul,’ my impressions were confirmed. Mine wife really fancied seeing it, having been seduced by the trailer that featured the animated skeleton of a Tyrannosaurus Rex pursuing Stiller. According to her, it looked like it would be good fun. I begged to differ, thinking a terrible mess is all we’d pay our monies to see.
But you know what? She was right. The critics were wrong, and so was I. Night at the Museum is no one’s idea of a comedy classic, but it is a laugh, and its heart is in the right place. That’s the last time I base my decision to see a film on The Grauniad’s say so. After all, movie critic Peter Bradshaw gave Mission Impossible III a sad, solitary star, and I thought it was one of the most exciting cinema experiences of 2006.
Night at the Museum is rated PG, and as a result appears to rein in many of Stiller’s worst excesses. The unconvincing results whenever you see him trying what The Boy calls ‘the sexy stuff’ don’t apply here. There’s some comic gurning, but not enough to become truly irritating. Its quotient of violence is most definitely of the ‘no blood,’ slapstick variety, and where the CGI’s concerned, it’s generally applied thoughtfully, if in liberal doses.
The story surrounds Stiller’s likeable loser, Larry Daley, who takes a night security guard post at the local Natural History Museum in an effort to show his son that he can maintain a stable life. Having long split up from his wife, Larry has to deal with visits to his former home that show her now married to Don (Paul Rudd), the very model of solid respectability compared with his own luckless inventor’s existence. Once recruited, it isn’t long before the museum’s exhibits come to life, powered by a magical Egyptian tablet. Larry is initially terrified by the wild animals, huns, miniature Roman soldiers and the T-Rex skeleton. A menagerie of historical figures and beasts riot through the hallways, many of whom seem bent on vanquishing him. However, a waxwork Teddy Roosevelt (Robin Williams) befriends our hero, and inspires in him a sense of purpose - it’s up to him to control the exhibits; he can find a way. In the meantime, Larry has the three former security guards, led by Dick Van Dyke, to deal with, along with musem manager, Dr McPhee. The latter character is played by Ricky Gervais, and spends his time worrying about the institution’s dwindling popularity whilst ever appearing to have his sacking finger cocked when Larry’s around.
There’s more to the movie, dense sub-plots involving a number of the exhibits - an Easter Island head, Sacajawea, Attila the Hun, fire-seeking neanderthals, Dexter the monkey, Pharoah Ahkmenrah, and Owen Wilson’s three-inch high railroad worker. I’ve only covered the basics, whereas in the movie swathes of plot whizz by in continual yet digestible chunks. Put it this way, it’s not a movie that’s likely to bore you. Night at the Museum is dished up in episodes of easy laughs and plot developments that experienced viewers will see coming a mile off, but should charm the pants off younger audiences. Much of it shouldn’t work. A number of gags are practically radioed ahead, just in case kids watching the film might think Larry’s in any real danger from the dinosaur fossil that’s chasing him, and this can flatten the pay off. On the other hand, great performances are coaxed out of the acting talent on display. I thought Steve Coogan as Roman general, Octavius, was a hoot, and Wilson was less annoying than usual. Maybe he should concentrate on playing miniature characters in the future.
More than anything, Night at the Museum is easy on the eye, and I don’t think any more was intended during its production. It reminds me a little of the last Doctor Who series, in the sense that it’s clearly been made as diverting entertainment, for as wide an audience as possible. As such, hardcore fans might be let down by the family friendliness of it all, but that doesn’t make it a bad thing. The same’s true of Night at the Museum, which had me won over with its sheer likeability. The pace never lets up, and some of the incidental comedy thrown in - ‘There is a 20-foot jackal staring at you right now. Don’t make eye contact’ - is expertly written and nicely delivered, more often than not by Williams, who puts in an admirably restrained turn as Roosevelt.
The only black mark comes in the form of Gervais, a criticism levelled by many, and with good reason. As welcome as it is to see Reading’s finest become more of a face in Hollywood, I get the impression that no one really knows what to do with him. As such, his character is required to have all the awkward, belligerent mannerisms of David Brent, without any good lines whatsoever. The shabby turn he puts in here is entirely reminiscent of his Simpsons episode, where his natural schtick seemed to be compressed into cliched rhetoric for American audiences. Don’t remember him this way. It’s worth noting that, once or twice, Larry’s dialogue seems to have been inspired by Extras’ screenplays, and as we all know Stiller is a Gervais fan. Naturally, this being a vehicle for him, he gets all the best lines.
In Kevin O’Reilly’s review for DVD Times, he commented that it’s nice to be surprised occasionally, which sums A Night at the Museum up. It could have been awful, but in fact it’s okay, and the lesson for me is obviously to pay more regard to Kevin than I might paid up film critics who appear to have an innate distrust of CGI and allow this to colour their judgement.