Danny DeVito’s “”Death to Smoochy”” inhabits a city resembling Manhattan, though everything’s a bit different. Call it a parallel universe, one where Nazis invite plush animal mascots to their top secret meetings, and a bribery scandal involving kid’s show host “”Rainbow”” Randolph Smiley (Robin Williams) is front-page news.
But what else would you expect from DeVito, the sarcastic actor and occasional director whose ventures behind the camera have resulted in the genre-testing “”Matilda”” and black-as-night comedy, “”Throw Momma From the Train””?The list of potential Rainbow replacements reads like a who’s who of cell block C. Only Smoochy the rhino (Ed Norton), a bottom feeder in the kid show talent pool described by network execs as a “”fabric stuffer,”” possesses the harmless persona and (more importantly) requisite clean record the corporate suits seek. They pitch, and Smoochy, a.k.a. Sheldon Mopes, feverishly accepts. One minute he’s dazzling the denizens of a methadone clinic, the next his mug is smiling down on Times Square.The problem is that used to be Randolph’s mug, and he wants the spotlight back. Cooking up schemes involving risque cookies and hired assassins, Randolph strives to besmirch Mopes’ spotless reputation, only damaging his own with each failed attempt.When not tailing Randolph and his jealous pursuits, “”Smoochy”” actually dances a familiar dance, taking potshots at the backstage soap opera that is television production, with some fresh touches. The controlling presence of an Irish mafia (as an O’Connell, I’ve been sworn to silence) provides some needed humor, while a corrupt charity foundation, run by Harvey Fierstein, establishes unnecessary subplots that make more sense as the film plays out.Regrettably, the film’s title gag involving Randolph’s vendetta also turns out the be the death of “”Smoochy,”” punctuated by Williams’ incessant screeching and Wily E. Coyote-esque antics. Despite the film’s intended premise, I found myself bravely tolerating Williams’ grandstanding, all the while waiting for DeVito to return to Norton’s struggles with his newfound fame.Adam Resnick’s script and DeVito’s inventive direction provide some dry asides, though they’re almost eclipsed by Catherine Keener’s wayward performance. The actress mistakenly begins her stint with a truly unoriginal portrayal of a brittle, frigid TV producer, only to make an unlikely 180-degree turn to become Mopes’ love-interest. It’s poor execution for the character by a director who should know better.Still, there’s something seriously funny about Smoochy wrapped in the American flag, fortifying his patriotism and disdain for the Third Reich. In these instances, DeVito’s warped sense of humor peeks through and stays long enough to hold your attention. The director enough mines chuckles from the industry jabs, even if the humor is hit-and-miss. The rest is, as Norton’s Mopes would say, simply bells and whistles and ricketa-racketa.Grade: C-By Sean O’ConnellMarch 29, 2002