You, Me, and Dupree makes such an
astounding attempt to break away from
conventional romantic-comedies by still
mirroring their content that it ends up being an
almost uncomfortable piece of work in the
process. The set-up is simple enough: newlyweds
Carl (Matt Dillon) and Molly (Kate Hudson)
settle down together and expect their love-life
to ignite, but things turn out to be far less
romantic than they had hoped when Carl’s
long-time best-friend Dupree (Owen Wilson)
barges into the picture out-of work and in need
of a place to stay. They hesitantly agree to
allow Dupree to bunk on their couch for a few
days, but in true Hollywood fashion, he takes
the liberty of extending his visit and all kinds
of havoc ensue as a result.
In terms of story,
You, Me, and Dupree is totally typical. It’s
in the film’s delivery that directors Anthony
and Joe Russo dangerously try to break away from
the conventional mold for this type of
production. As the story progresses, Dupree’s
unwanted-houseguest antics become the focus of
Carl’s anger towards his marriage and other’s
opinions of it. The tone of the film shifts from
one of light-heatedness to one somewhere between
dark-comedy and rage. Whatever you’d call it,
during this portion of You, Me, and Dupree
(which accounts for the majority of the
third act), viewers will feel rather awkward.
The style is neither romantic nor funny. It
would almost appear that the movie seems to be
targeting a realistic approach, but there’s
nothing real about the story. You, Me, and
Dupree is the equivalent of what Two
Weeks Notice would have been had it tried to
become Scenes From a Marriage mid-way
through and then changed its mind and turned
back by the time its conclusion rolled around.
Because of much of the
film’s general strangeness, the solid efforts of
the cast never really gel with the audience.
Wilson tries to be quite the outrageous hoot as
Dupree, but his lovable-loser-shtick never
really seems very amusing due to its negative
effect on Carl and Molly’s relationship. Dillon
and Hudson capture the romantic-realism that the
directors seemed to be striving for, but because
the approach doesn’t work, their efforts are
wasted. Michael Douglas also plays Molly’s
father and Carl’s boss, but his character’s
actions are far too bizarrely written in the
first place for one to even attempt to enjoy.
The climactic moment
of You, Me, and Dupree occurs when Carl
leaps across a dinner-table and tackles Dupree
in order to take out his anger towards the
inconvenience that Dupree has caused him during
the film, as if he was a wild animal. Sounds
weird, you say? Well, heck yes the scene is
weird—and so are several other, similar passages
in the movie. I like my romantic-comedies to be
either so richly romantic and funny that they
leave a profound effect on me or so light and
fluffy that I am able to forget about them in an
instant. You, Me, and Dupree doesn’t even
close to fulfilling one of such requirements;
it’s a strange bird of an unwelcome movie. The
actors—and even their half-likable
characters—deserve a better seasoned film to
lend their talents to.
-Danny, Bucket Reviews (7.21.2006)