'Walk of Shame' Review: Oh For F*cks Sake
Elizabeth Banks is a goddamn wonder. James Marsden is the most boyishly charming guy on the planet. Gillian Jacobs is fantastic. All three of these people are in Walk of Shame (along with a decent supporting cast that includes Ethan Suplee and Lawrence Gilliard), but when you have a script and a premise and director as weak as Walk of Shame, there’s no fucking hope. Steven Brill wrote and directed Walk of Shame, and Steven Brill is the schlub behind some of Adam Sandler’s worst films (Mr. Deeds, Little Nicky) and those were some of Brill’s best movies. The guy’s got shit for brains. He couldn’t feed a sandwich to Joey Tribbiani during a famine. And it just sucks. It sucks because Marsden and Banks and Jacobs deserve so much better than this garbage, while meanwhile Cameron Diaz is making movies that are just as shitty, and those make $25 million on opening weekend.
Nobody should go watch shitty movies, but if you have to watch a shitty movie, shouldn’t you at least watch a shitty movie with Elizabeth Banks and James Marsden instead of Cameron Diaz and the poor man’s James Marsden, Taylor Kinney? They’re both equally terrible films, but The Other Woman gets a huge marketing push with Cameron Diaz running around talking about pubic hair, while Walk of Shame gets no promotion and a day-and-date release and will probably end up making about $100,000 at the box office.
Anyway, in Walk of Shame Banks plays a reporter who drinks too much, ends up sleeping with a guy she just met played by Marsden, then gets a call to be at the news station at a certain time in order to get a promotion. Her car ends up getting towed, she ends up getting locked out of Marsden’s apartment, and she has no phone and no money, and so naturally she’s mistaken for a prostitute because she’s wearing what I believe is referred to colloquially as a hoochie mama dress. So, we spend roughly an hour and a half watching a good-girl reporter being mistaken for a prostitute as she attempts to make it across the city to the impound lot, evading police, drug dealers, and homicidal cab drivers, only to be rescued by Prince Dimpled Cheeks at the last second.
Nothing happens in Walk of Shame that we don’t see coming, and there’s nothing in the film that’s more interesting than whatever you’re looking at on your phone while you’re trying to watch it. It’s a lousy fucking movie with a great fucking cast, just like all these Adam Scott day-to-date films that no one watches. The light romantic comedy genre is clearly dead, which is a shame because there are a few of us that still appreciate them, if only someone would make a motherfucking decent one for us to watch. Walk of Shame is not decent. It’s a blow-job movie from a director who has barbed-wire braces.
On the bright side, Elizabeth Banks wears the hoochie mama dress well, Gillian Jacobs got a paycheck, and Marsden’s smile is still perfect.
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