Long division

Vaughn and Aniston bicker endlessly, and uninterestingly, in the bland `Break-Up'

June 02, 2006|Ty Burr, Globe Staff

Consumer-fraud alert: You know the Jennifer Aniston/Vince Vaughn film the trailers are selling as a vengeful romantic farce a la ``The War of the Roses"? Turns out it's the feel-bad movie of the year. Some films mix comedy and drama to arrive at a higher plane. ``The Break-Up" looks at the two and is paralyzed with indecision.

It does start with a nice little kick: a pre-title sequence in which charming loudmouth Gary Grobowski (Vaughn) woos the poised Brooke Meyers (Aniston) at a Chicago Cubs game. No matter that Brooke's sitting five seats over with her boyfriend and Gary's with his crass best friend, Johnny (Jon Favreau); the two connect, and the credits unfold over candid snapshots of their subsequent long-term relationship. These photos are playful and banal; they could be your own life moments pinned up there on the screen.

Which turns out to be the problem. ``The Break-Up" proper begins a few years later, as Brooke and Gary are preparing a dinner for their families in their upscale condo. A misunderstanding over lemons turns into a tiff, which escalates into a fight, and suddenly long-nursed grievances are being aired. She does all the planning and never gets any thanks for it; he can't unwind after a long day without being nagged about picking up. He doesn't want to go to the ballet; she doesn't want a pool table in the living room.

The biggest unresolved question here is why we're paying $9.50, plus popcorn, for something we can presumably get at home for free.

Well, because it might be funny or insightful, or some combination of both. ``The Break-Up" mostly just lies there, though, alternately adoring and condemning its characters for their puppyish refusal to grow up. The couple's rift goes nuclear, with each party trying to break the other down via calculated outrages (fake boyfriends, stripper parties) and pulling their friends into the widening vortex.

Because the script insists these two really belong together, though, it never dares get interestingly mean. See ``The Puffy Chair," also opening today, for a more uncomfortably honest take on such matters.

Vaughn, who co-produced and co-wrote the original story, trades amusingly on the motormouth routine he used to steal ``Wedding Crashers" from Owen Wilson; it's cheering, as well, to see a movie hero unafraid to be a pushy, overweight schlub. ``The Break-Up" asks him to evolve into a sensitive male, though, and if he's not buying it, why should we?