‘Tower Heist’ Swindles its Viewers

Back in 2007, I had the honor of attending the Cannes Film Festival. I was in the presence of many towering figures in the film industry, some of which told me stories about their brilliant careers. Martin Scorsese, Quentin Tarantino, Stephen Frears, Malcolm McDowell, Michael Moore and Robert Duvall were a mere sampling of the people I encountered on this trip.

Yet perhaps the most memorable words of all came from Brett Ratner, the self-aware Hollywood hack best known for helming the Rush Hour trilogy. In a room full of college students, Ratner was remarkably candid about his own career. He admitted that the best movies he made were in film school. His big-budget moneymakers didn’t appear to be nearly as much of a source of pride. In fact, he seemed a tad embarrassed about them.

In Ratner’s defense, there are many filmmakers in the industry that are far less gifted. Ratner has at least sported the ambition to tackle multiple genres and tones. What he lacks is the talent necessary to transcend generic formulas. He knows how to assemble a good-looking cast and put them through the motions, but falls short of making the material resonate as anything other than a mechanical studio product.

Tower Heist is the latest dreary example of Ratner’s shortcomings as a filmmaker. It takes a timely premise and A-list cast and squeezes them into the suffocating structure of a routine heist comedy. Is there any sub-genre duller than the heist comedy?

Even Steven Soderbergh’s Oceans franchise quickly ran out of steam despite its megawatt ensemble. It’s no fun to see a legion of great actors hired to stand around and look cute while uttering deadpan quips. Okay, maybe that’s fun for ten minutes, but certainly not at feature-length. 

Eddie Murphy originally conceived Heist as an African American Oceans 11, which would’ve at least given the project some distinction. But once Ratner came onboard, the entire script morphed into a standard mainstream smorgasbord designed to please everyone but ultimately satisfy no one. Ben Stiller was hired to do the same “Stillerian” shtick of slow-burn exasperation that he’s been coasting on for what feels like an eternity. It’s unclear whether Murphy’s role was shortened in any way, but what’s surprising is just how little he’s featured in the film, despite his second billing. 

Anyone who’s seen the trailer is well aware of the plot. Stiller is outwitted by a smarmy businessman’s Ponzi scheme and recruits a squad of disenfranchised clock punchers to take down the old coot once and for all. Since all of Stiller’s comrades are bumbling fools, he bails a slick swindler (Murphy) out of prison to teach them the ropes. This should be fun, but too much of the film is bogged down in the drama of Stiller’s disillusionment. The fact that Stiller and Alan Alda (as the villain) are in fine form is somewhat redeeming, yet too often their scenes bring the comic momentum to a screeching halt.

Not until Murphy is released from prison does the picture suddenly remember that it is, in fact, a comedy. The best bits in the film are built entirely on the riffs that Murphy engages in with his reluctant partners in crime: sleepy-eyed Casey Affleck, bubble-headed Michael Peña (who gets all the film’s funniest lines) and scarily pale Matthew Broderick. There’s one lewd exchange that the actors share about a woman in a slideshow that evokes memories of Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker’s chemistry in the first Rush Hour picture, which may have been the only Ratner film that successfully balanced diverting action with disarming comedy. 

Most of the gags in Heist are all setup with no payoff. During one oft-repeated scene in the promos, Murphy orders his heist team to practice picking a lock. Before exiting, Murphy informs them that he’ll be sleeping with Rita. Broderick looks around befuddled and asks, “Who’s Rita?” Cut to next scene. This is a typical example of the film’s utter laziness in the writing department. Instead of building gags with imagination and wit, Ratner merely hurls out dumb one-liners that land with a thud.

Perhaps the gravest missed opportunity is the subplot about the flirtatious Jamaican maid played by Gabourey Sidibe, best known for getting whacked upside the head with a frying pan in Precious: Based on the Novel ‘Push’ By Sapphire. Sidibe snagged an Oscar nomination for her agonizing on-camera abuse, thus making her follow-up role in a light comedy all the more welcome. There’s an admittedly priceless moment when Sidibe hits on Murphy, but the scene sadly amounts to little more than thirty seconds of screen time. 

Ratner’s Heist is a harmless diversion, but that’s hardly good enough in an age of inflated ticket prices and an increasing number of entertainment options. As a comeback vehicle for Eddie Murphy, it’s needlessly sanitized by its PG-13 rating. As a reflection of Occupy Wall Street’s rage, it merely pays lip service to the current economic woes, complete with half-hearted digs at Bank of America. As a comedy, the film is far more interested in staging improbable set pieces than generating real laughs. 

It’s also flat-out depressing to see Stiller reunite with co-stars Alda and Téa Leoni (quite charming as an FBI agent) in such dismal fare, particularly since the last comedy they made together was David O. Russell’s wildly under-appreciated 1996 satire, Flirting with Disaster.

Tower Heist opened Nov. 4 at the AMC Showplace Village Crossing 18 and Regal Gardens 7-13 in Skokie. It opened at number 2 behind Puss in Boots, earning $25 million according to Box Office Mojo. It is rated PG-13.

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