From EW...
I do not own this poster. The Incredible Burt Wonderstone owns it all.
In the Incredible Burt Wonderstone,
Steve Carell and Steve Buscemi play world-famous Las Vegas magicians.
Carell wears spangled red velvet and a poufy wig that makes him look
like Barry Manilow, and Buscemi sports an even more unreal-looking lanky
mop. Each night, they kick off their act by doing a smiley little dance
to ''Abracadabra,'' that cheesy-catchy Steve Miller Band classic. This
trademark fanfare places the two somewhere between Siegfried & Roy
and the head-bopping Butabi brothers from Saturday Night Live,
and I chuckled, with mild pleasure, at the dopey kitschiness of it. I
assumed (or at least hoped) that the dance would be a warm-up for the
much bigger laughs to come.
Carell's Burt Wonderstone and Buscemi's Anton Marvelton
have been partners ever since they were childhood geeks who began
inventing their own magic tricks back in the early '80s. They've been
doing their sold-out show at Bally's for so long now that they're sick
of it, and sick of each other, too. Burt, off stage, is a toxic diva who
makes groupies sign contracts and treats Anton like an indentured
servant. One night, the two are working with a brand-new assistant, Jane
(Olivia Wilde), performing a classic trick that requires Burt and Jane
to huddle inside a box, which Anton jabs with swords. Squeezed inside
the compartment, Burt asks Jane to sleep with him that night, and when
she turns him down, he throws a hissy fit. It should be an over-the-top
funny moment, as Carell lashes out with a faux-aristocratic hauteur.
He's going for a Will Ferrell meltdown, yet there's something a little
too controlled about Carell's bombastic nuttiness. The effect isn't
hilariously insane. Once again, it's just kind of mild.
Burt Wonderstone seems to be reaching for the tone of early Farrelly brothers movies like Kingpin, and also for the madcap hostility of Zoolander.
Yet in too many scenes, the comedy doesn't quite ignite. The movie
rarely climbs out of the chuckle zone, except for a few times when Jim
Carrey is on screen as Burt and Anton's rival, a stringy-haired,
tattooed street magician who specializes in cable-TV stunts that
represent the new era: He's like Criss Angel as a Zen pain freak. The
gleam of madness in Carrey's eye finds a perfect home in this role,
which has him upping the ante on how far he'll go (holding in his urine
for 12 days, spending a night on hot coals), all as a way to bedazzle
jaded audiences.
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