They say that nature abhors a vacuum, but it also hates stagnation. That's why things constantly are born and later die, whether that's referring to people, their beliefs or even entire civilizations. While most every era has its share of such changes, the 1960s and '70s seem to have been inundated with them.
Feminism and women's lib were taking hold, the suburbs were overtaking the cities as the desired place to live, social stratification was increasing rather than leveling out, and science/technology was offering both modern marvels and potential nightmares.
Not surprisingly, many films of that era became more sophisticated versions of the hokey, cautionary tales from the 1950s that preceded them. One of the more memorable ones was 1975's "The Stepford Wives" that addressed many of the aforementioned issues and concerns. Although it had some campy elements - particularly in hindsight - it was for the most part a thriller and a domestic cousin to the more adventurous "Westworld."
For reasons unknown outside of the financial realm, the great moviemaking minds have decided the time was both right and ripe for a contemporary remake of the film. Since those issues aren't as threatening as they once seemed, however, writer Paul Rudnick ("Marci X," "Isn't She Great") and director Frank Oz ("The Score," "Bowfinger") have opted to turn the picture into a purposefully campy affair. The result is a mess of an offering that isn't particularly funny, scary, interesting or, unfortunately, good.
The problem with camp is that it's something that needs to arise or develop naturally (and usually unintentionally) from other intentions. Trying to create it is a risky venture at best, with only the most talented touch being able to pull it off. Alas, the filmmakers here are all thumbs and the bungled strain shows. The attempted camp thus comes off as forced and artificial as the titular characters do.
Spoiler alert
Speaking of which and for those not familiar with the original film, the big surprise in it was that the lovely ladies were in fact robotic versions of the real thing designed to keep them in their place and please their not particularly progressive husbands.
Here, the filmmakers have opted to let the robotic cat out of the bag quite early on, although they don't fully commit to that (and even backtrack a bit) until late in the film. Instead, they play around with it, as if nobody already knows or hasn't figured it out before the eventual, complete revelation.
They also can't decide whether the ladies are replaced by robots or simply receive some cranial chip inserts (both are offered as possibilities). Considering reports that the film repeatedly went back to the cutting room for changes, it's not surprising that such discrepancies are present, but they certainly don't help matters.
Nor does the fact that the film can't decide if it should be a comedy or thriller. There isn't enough of the latter to work in such regards. While there are various attempts at comedy (including some lame ones regarding consumerism and reality TV shows), they're so broadly and unimaginatively played that they're only amusing at best, but usually fall flat. And the supposedly black comedy elements clearly aren't charred enough.
Following in the footsteps of Katharine Ross who came off a string of hits earlier in her career to play the lead in the original, Nicole Kidman ("Cold Mountain," "The Human Stain") appears as the suspicious outsider. Since we know the secret from the get-go, the only real "suspense" is whether she'll end up like the other ladies by the end and trying to figure out what made her sign on to this mess.
Joining her is Bette Midler ("Isn't She Great" "Drowning Mona") as the token Jewish outsider and Roger Bart ("The Insider") as the obligatory, "swishy" gay character. While Midler gets a few funny lines, Bart plays nothing more than a broadly drawn gay stereotype that was old even back in the '70s. Just as Kidman is wasted, so is the talent of Glenn Close ("Le Divorce," "The Big Chill") and Christopher Walken ("Man on the Fire," "The Rundown") as the local "creepy from being too cheery" residents.
Country/pop singer Faith Hill makes her debut playing one of the automatons, but is flat and completely forgettable (although, I suppose, that's an accurate portrayal of her character). Matthew Broderick ("You Can Count on Me," "Inspector Gadget") plays the husband tempted by the town's unique approach at marital bliss, but his motivation is constantly off and/or unbelievable and his performance is flat. I'd mention the actors playing his and Kidman's kids, but they disappear from view and no one questions what happened to them.
Uneven, choppy and all over the board in terms of style and genre, this is yet another remake that serves no purpose. Had the filmmakers felt a desire to reexamine the social and societal issues the first film addressed, that might have been one thing, but there's just nothing there. And when viewed simply as a piece of escapist entertainment, the effort simply doesn't work.
Feeling about as artificial and robotic as its titular subjects, "The Stepford Wives" is a cinematic malfunction filled with too many artistic glitches to make it worth seeing. It rates as a 3 out of 10.
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