Monster-in-law

Few titles declare their film’s high concept as forcibly as Monster-in-law, the latest in what is becoming a cycle of malevolent in-law narratives. Here Jennifer Lopez is subjected to ever more desperate attempts by a demoniacal Jane Fonda to prevent her marrying her son. The transparency of the title might seem an admission of the film’s similarity to predecessors Meet the Parents and Guess Who – and a warning that the idea is wearing thin.

The sense of repetition applies also to the luxuriant Californian milieu in which director Robert Luketic set parts of both his previous films (Legally Blonde and Win a Date with Tad Hamilton!) and in which we now encounter Charlie (Lopez), a self-confessed dabbler with a string of temp jobs. While the early scenes – in which Charlie falls for wealthy doctor Kevin – establish an unexceptional rom-com dynamic, the mise en scène presents an undeniably appealing patina, with a palette of oranges and greens captured by Russell Carpenter’s fluid but restless camerawork. Fortunately, Lopez and Michael Vartan as Kevin are charismatic enough not to be upstaged by the insistent beautification of palm-lined roads and ubiquitous bougainvillea.

Monster-in-law switches gear with the introduction of Kevin’s mother Viola, a recently usurped television anchorwoman, whom we see hosting one last (disastrous) chat-show interview with a dim-witted pop star. Infuriated by this unfortunate’s youthful empty-headedness – she professes a taste for, like, really old movies such as Legally Blonde – the highly strung presenter lunges at her guest. The film lunges with her, taking a bathetic nosedive into OTT characterisation and intermittently absurd physical comedy.

That Viola’s increasingly dogged attempts to ‘save’ her son from marrying beneath him don’t become entirely unwatchable is testament to the panache that Jane Fonda brings to the role of Viola, returning to the screen after a lengthy hiatus and gamely poking fun at her iconic image. She is even happy to don Norma Desmond-like attire for the engagement party scene – fearlessly confronting the close-to-the-bone Sunset Blvd. aspects of her character. The juxtaposition of Fonda with Lopez, now a star of comparable stature, is shrewd, and Luketic lingers in awe on their first scene together with a wordless montage of smiles, glances and good humour as they share a pot of tea in Viola’s garden. This scene seems as much about the two icons as it is about the meeting of Charlie and her prospective mother-in-law.

The chemistry that might have developed between these female leads given wittier material is neglected by the director (who impressed with his eye for gentle satire in Legally Blonde) in favour of interludes of cartoonish violence. While these are often contained within brief eruptions of fantasy (reminiscent of TV’s Ally McBeal), as when Viola visualises plunging Charlie face-first into an iced cake, the comedy comes to rely on such moments at the expense of more sophisticated altercations.

Viola becomes an antagonist of such maniacal determination that it is impossible to believe that she can suddenly accept the couple. Nor can we believe, shortly after Charlie has suffered an anaphylactic reaction to gravy that Viola has spiked with almonds, that she could possibly want her mother-in-law ‘upfront and centre’ in her family. And the relationship between Charlie and Kevin is so weakly established that Charlie’s patience with such near psychotic behaviour seems implausible. In one scene Kevin tenderly describes the nuances of Charlie’s eyes; attentive viewers may recall a similar spiel in Tad Hamilton! in which Tad dupes his young fan into thinking he loves her by listing her array of smiles. A scene that Luketic used originally to expose Tad’s fraudulent romanticism has become the means by which he now attempts to hoodwink his audience.

This review features in the July 2005 issue of Sight & Sound.