Very Bad Things

(Peter Berg, USA, 1998)

Movies of the late '90s seemed to be brimming over with either of two creeping malaises.

The first malaise is a taste for flippant violence, which usually goes hand in glove with a resolutely jokey attitude towards all forms of social breakdown and chaos; this is evident in films as diverse as Enemy of the State (1998) and Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels (1998).

The second malaise is an intense hatred – easily tipping over into masochistic self-loathing – of everything that is normal, suburban and family-oriented in everyday life. This bad feeling veritably pours out of Buffalo 66 (1998), A Simple Plan (1998) and Happiness (1998).

Put the two malaises together, and you've got Very Bad Things, the writing-directing debut from actor Peter Berg (The Great White Hype, 1996). This rather obnoxious film begins with the frantic prelude to a stag party. Kyle (Jon Favreau) is about to be married to the extremely pushy Laura (Cameron Diaz), who wants the coming boys-night-out to be his last.

When we meet Kyle's friends, we can sympathise with her position: Robert (Christian Slater), Charles (Leland Orser), Michael (Jeremy Piven) and Adam (Daniel Stern) are the least attractive bunch of guys assembled on screen since In the Company of Men (1997).

Between them, these specimens represent every male sickness imaginable: suppressed aggression, repressed homosexuality, corporate psychobabble, misogyny, fear and cowardice. However, since this is meant to be a black comedy, their antics veer towards a level of rock-video frenzy that recalls the nadir of American independent film, Swingers (1996).

Since this movie has little going for it beyond a few outrageous and surprising plot twists, suffice to say that the stag night goes horribly wrong. From then on, the guys must add guilt to their long line of complexes and neuroses – and they must particularly deal with Robert, the wild card in their midst who, like Ben Mendelsohn in the Australian film True Love and Chaos (1997), takes to backing up his punches with visionary, New Age rhetoric.

This is a tiresome movie which loses control of its tone and energy level very quickly – rather like the men it portrays. The women, especially Lois (Jeanne Tripplehorn), get to be nagging, social-climbing bitches, but at least, when the crunches come, they enjoy dishing out a little ultra-violence themselves. Diaz has to carry the burden of what is possibly the worst and most excessive final scene I have witnessed in years.

All up, Very Bad Things is a pointless and unstylish exercise in fashionable misanthropy.

© Adrian Martin February 1999