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Charlotte Amalie
Friday, July 19, 2024


The last time Jim Carrey came under the direction of the Farrelly brothers, they came up with "Dumb & Dumber." This time around, in "Me, Myself and Irene," they have gotten into over-the-counter psychology, which has made them no smarter, though perhaps marginally funnier, according to those who know – not the psychologists, who reportedly take a dim view of the goings on, but the critics.
One wag has called the film, " . . . a messy, proudly stupid assault on good taste . . . but, the funniest movie you'll see this year."
Well, let's see. First we have Irene (Renee Zellweger), a beautiful gal on the lam with whom Charlie Baileygates, a veteran Rhode Island policeman, falls in love. This noble emotion is complicated by Hank Baileygates, Charlie's opposite, who unfortunately dwells in Charlie's body along with Charlie, the good guy. Get it? He's got a personality problem, big time.
Charlie is raising the three sons of the wife who left him after cavorting with the limo driver who fathered all three. The three black kids and white father Charlie all get along famously, and the critics love them, even Hank.
Still with me? Well, again, according to the critics, it doesn't really matter. What does matter is Carrey's antic performance, "marvelous physical comedy and interracial byplay," which carries the movie. As Hank, he is filthy-mouthed, drinks and breaks skulls. As Charlie, he's a lamb, which somehow confuses Irene. Not Zellweger, however, who in off-screen life is on the cover of the July Vanity Fair magazine with a story about her romance with Carrey.
The movie is rated R for sexual content, crude humor, strong language and some violence.
It's playing at Diamond Cinemas.

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