If there’s anything to learn from watching “The Incredible Burt Wonderstone,” it’s that Will Ferrell either really does have an agent or he’s starting to get tired of the same unfunny crap he’s been doing for lately.
“The Incredible Burt Wonderstone” is the definition of a tired Will Ferrell-iean premise. All the staples are here: the oddly specific skill set, the loveable but bullied sidekick, the self-absorbed but ridiculously talented asshole/protagonist and the funny/annoying arch-enemy (played by a high profile actor) that he must ultimately overcome.
The only difference is that a visibly uncomfortable Steve Carell plays the arrogant asshole in question.
Wonderstone stars Carell as the leader of a Siegfried & Roy-esque duo with his childhood friend, Anton Marvelton (Steve Buscemi). Their act has become stagnant over the years and their friendship has strained to the braking point thanks to Burt’s stubbornness and narcissism. But when a new magician suddenly upstages them, Steve Gray (equal parts Criss Angel and David Blaine played by Jim Carrey). They find their friendship shattered, and Burt ends up homeless and penniless. Will he realize the value of the friendship he’s squandered and remember who was before the fame got to his head before it’s too late?
Let me just go ahead and spoil it for you. Do “Talladega Nights,” “Blades Of Glory” and “Semi-Pro” sound familiar to you?
The reason Wonderstone fails and these films succeed (besides lack of creativity) because it never really decides what kind of movie it wants to be. The tone jumps over the place, from family comedy to juvenile attempts at shock humor. None of it works. These actors have proven they can be hilarious when given the right material and the freedom to go off script. The strict adherence to this tired formula and kills any chances for funny this movie could have had.
In the end, The Incredible Burt Wonderstone really just succeeds at only three things: Being boring, making you hate Steve Carell and ensuring you’ll have The Steve Miller Band’s “Abracadabra” stuck in your head long after you force the film to pull a disappearing act from your memory.
