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| Courtesy of Universal |
For
the first half of its two-hour running time (which is about 20 minutes too
long), The Best Man Holiday – the sequel to 1999’s The Best Man – is an
improvement on its predecessor. Almost everyone in the cast has honed their
acting skills over the last 14 years, and the characters’ interactions seem
more believable thanks to a pronounced boost in the ensemble’s chemistry. (I
wouldn’t be at all surprised to hear the actors are close in real life.)
Equally
as important, writer/director Malcolm D. Lee has become a much better filmmaker
in the last decade-plus. His dialogue sounds more natural, the jokes – steeped in
these friends’ deep history – aren’t as forced and (other than a couple of
unfortunate missteps) the conflicts among the friends don’t seem as contrived.
Visually,
there’s a marked difference in the two films. The first one was the epitome of ’90s
point-and-shoot filmmaking. That’s not a jab; it looked terrific considering Lee
was making his directorial debut. But the sequel’s lavish, jaw-dropping sets,
made even more stunning by Greg Gardiner’s rich cinematography, make the
original look downright cheap in retrospect.
Unfortunately,
the film’s second half takes a turn into the kind of over-the-top, Tyler Perry-esque
melodrama that the original wisely avoided. It still had plot developments
worthy of the cheesiest soap opera, but it didn’t milk them for emotion as
blatantly as the sequel does.
I’m
a sucker for brazen sentimentality when it’s done effectively (the A- I gave About
Time a couple of weeks ago proves that), however the clichéd turn “The Best
Man Holiday” takes at its midpoint is the stuff Lifetime movies are made of. But
that’s probably just my cranky film critic side talking. If the audience in the
screening I attended is any indication, the film’s target demo is going to
adore it. So what the heck do I know?
After
nearly 15 years apart, variously coupled college friends Harper (Taye Diggs)
and Robyn (Sanaa Lathan); Lance (Morris Chestnut) and Mia (Monica Calhoun); Julian
(Harold Perrineau) and Candace (Regina Hall); Jordan (Nia Long) and her new boyfriend
Brian (Eddie Cibrian); and wild cards Quentin (Terrence Howard) and Shelby (Melissa
De Sousa) are reuniting. At Mia’s behest, they’re all spending the days leading
up to Christmas at her family’s palatial estate, one of the many rewards of Lance’s
successful pro football career.
Viewers
who saw the first film understand why the friends would be a bit hesitant to
reconnect, considering all the secrets revealed by the publication of Harper’s
first novel. Since then, he has become a best-selling author and an NYU
professor, but both jobs recently flamed out.
His
only opportunity for a comeback rests on his former best friend Lance granting
him permission to write the football hero’s biography. If he can time the book
to hit shelves as Lance is retiring, even better. However, fans of the original
will understand why Harper is terrified to even utter the word “book” around
him. The other characters have their own drama-filled subplots, including
Julian uncovering a secret about his wife that could threaten his career and
Jordan still struggling to find the right mix of career and personal life.
But
all those relatively minor problems are forgotten when a bigger secret is revealed
halfway through, completely changing the film’s tone. Anyone who’s paying
remotely close attention will see it coming due to all the pursed lips and
sideways glances, but it still seems like an unnecessary attempt to ratchet up
the stakes when the low-key drama is much more entertaining.
Performances
are solid all around, but the standouts are Diggs, Chestnut, Howard and
Calhoun. The first two actors do a remarkable job of persuading the audience to
invest in Harper and Lance, considering the characters’ arrogance, inflexibility
and medieval views on women make them dangerously close to unlikable.
Howard,
who has arguably become the most famous cast member since the first film, serves
as much-needed comic relief. He steals every scene he’s in, mostly because you
can’t help but love Quentin despite his slimy, womanizing ways; he’s basically
a live-action, R-rated Pepe Le Pew. Calhoun is saddled with the film’s
emotional heavy-lifting, which she delivers wonderfully. Her subplot frustrates
me, but she’s terrific. That’s why I’m so torn on the ill-advised second half.
To
put it in terms Lance would understand, The Best Man Holiday doesn’t fumble
the ball in the second half. But it comes dangerously close to doing so,
turning the film from a must-see into an enthusiastically recommended Redbox
rental. But again, fans of amped-up melodrama are sure to disagree.
The
Best Man Holiday is rated R for language, sexual content and brief nudity.
Grade:
B-
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