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THE THREE STOOGES — Lack of Commitment, Blindings Mar Slapstick Remake

Was I a Stooges fan growing up?

Almost. Their films were in artistic black and white, but they did not speak French thus weakening the drama of “Pick two.”

So when I heard the Farrelly Brothers were directing a remake, I immediately rushed to see the YouTube trailer, jammed full of slaps and slapstick, cross-dressing and clergy-mauling.

Ah, but you cannot top Mount Everest.

Not even they of Dumb and Dumber fame.

Try as the Farrellys surely did—and rumors circulate that several stand-ins were temporarily blinded by eye pokes—their oversight could not recreate the brutal reality of Stooges Ancient.

And that is because the actors never devoted themselves to the years of training needed to deliver genuine, belly laugh-inducing mayhem.

Like Indian fakirs, you don’t go to work the first day and plop down on a bed of nails. Chris Diamantopoulous (Moe), Sean Hayes (Larry), and Will Sasso (Curly) lashed out as best they could, but their actorish blows clearly lacked the disciplined zing of the original Stooges. How many hours do you suppose Sasso practiced having a crow bar lift him by the nose while he yelped “owowowowowowowowow”?

How often did Sean Hayes rehearse having a crosscut saw drug across the top of his curly-fringed pate? And did Chris Diamantopoulous ever speak to his agent about getting a shorter, zippier name? What would be wrong with Chris E. Gadde? Casting agents would remember that in a snap and so would I.

But I veer away like a one-winged gull.

After years of grueling repetition, the original Moe Howard could be completely covered in hot roofing tar, blown from a window by high explosives, then struck in the face with an oak plank while snapping out “I ought a murder you” in one seamless take.

I’m afraid today’s talent lacks a certain dedication to craft.

Written by Peter and Bobby Farrelly and Mike Cerrone, the film follows the hapless attempts of Moe, Larry and Curly to save the orphanage they have spent their lives destroying. They dress up like women, wander onto a sound stage, and write 80% of the Dodd-Frank Wall Street Reform and Consumer Protection Act.

And all the while we’re watching actors emulate what they wouldn’t or couldn’t ever be—USDA, prime knuckleheads with more scar tissue on their heads than a freighter full of ex-boxers.

Jennifer Klatt brought fire and passion to her work as first assistant accountant.

A mere two stars. It should be less for blinding stand-ins.

Honestly. That’s so nyucked up.

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