Life Stinks

Remember that “I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it any more” piece of business in Network? Well, something like that happens in Life Stinks. The premise has super-billionaire (perhaps the richest man in America) Brooks acting out a bet that he can't survive on the slum streets of Los Angeles for a full thirty days without money, credit cards, ID or possibility of escape. Near the end of his ordeal when things are looking their bleakest, he begins this hypnotic mantra, “Life Stinks,” that spreads like wildfire amongst the mass of impoverished, homeless, derelict and maltreated persons who make up his present company. But like Network, Brooks' desperate rant will do about as much for the homeless situation as Peter Finch's “mad as hell” business did for quality television. The problem with Life Stinks is that it's got its heart in the right place but not a whole lot else. The movie has an intrusively inauthentic feel to it. Like after the limo initially leaves him off in the slums, Brooks appears in the very next scene all covered in grime. Or the fact that we're to believe that a man who's resourceful enough to become the richest person in America, cannot figure out any means of earning a buck or two in the slums. The movie also forges an uncomfortable tone as if it really wants to be a heart-wrenching drama that only uses comedy to sugar-coat its bitter pill. But the places where the movie shines are in its straightforward comedy bits, especially the physical humor. Whereas the comedy is self-evidently silly, the drama is self-evidently message bound. There's also an unexpectedly lovely dance sequence in which Brooks and his down-and-out guide and eventual lover, Molly (Warren) express their discovery of love with an explosion of dance equal to a Gene Kelly and Cyd Charisse. The movie has its moments but it plays like a ball of confusion. Life Stinks seems to be Brooks' bid to be taken seriously and leave the fart jokes behind. And something about that stinks.