Not worthy of Pig Vomit

Big Fat Liar, an adolescent fantasy film about a kid seeking revenge on Hollywood for stealing his idea and making it into a movie, is almost worth watching for the goofy performance of the great Paul Giamatti (Pig Vomit from Howard Sterns’ Private Parts).

Almost.

When habitual liar Jason Shepherd (Frankie Muniz, star of Malcolm in the Middle, my current favorite TV sitcom) drives his bike into the side of a limo, he finds it inhabited by none other than Marty Wolf (Giamatti), a Hollywood producer. Wolf gives Jason a ride and, after a brief conversation, drops him off at his destination, deciding to pocket the term paper the boy accidentally leaves on the car’s floor.

Months later, Jason sees a film trailer for Big Fat Liar, the title of his lost term paper, and discovers that Wolf is producing a big-budget picture from his idea, without his permission. Jason grabs his friend Kaylee (the very talented Amanda Baynes) and heads to Hollywood to cause trouble, not to mention the eventual disintegration of the film’s quality.

When Jason pleads with Wolf to call his dad and admit he wrote Big Fat Liar, and Wolf refuses, the kids declare war with mixed comedic results. The best gag involves Jason dumping blue dye in Wolf’s swimming pool and replacing his shampoo with orange paint, leaving the man looking like a punked-out Smurf.

In the movie’s favor, just about every minute Giamatti occupies the screen is passable and funny. I like the character he has created here: obnoxious, heartless and friendless, except for the beloved monkey doll that shares his bed. The movie falters when Giamatti isn’t involved, leaving the kids to run wild at Universal Studios, complete with the ole “Let’s try on a bunch of costumes and act like dicks during a music-video montage” routine.

Why is it that every time a movie character goes to a movie studio lot, that lot is stuffed with people in dopey costumes like cowboys, spacemen, pink furry monkeys and a host of others that we would never see in a modern-day film? This gimmick worked in Pee Wee’s Big Adventure, but it looks damn stupid here—the stupidity accented by the shit-eating grins on Muniz’s and Baynes’ faces (kids their age would more than likely find pink furry monkeys lame).

Even worse, the film seems to be a big commercial for Universal Studios, with the kids bunking in a prop room that just happens to be housing the car from Back to the Future and some of the raptors from Jurassic Park. It’s common knowledge that studios leave historic film props worth hundreds of thousands of dollars sitting around in closets, unguarded, accessible to any kid who wanders onto the lot looking for a place to nosh.

Muniz is a talented kid, and I hate to see him schlepping in material that’s beneath him. The same goes for Baynes, a gifted comic actress who has done sketch shows on Nickelodeon, and it wouldn’t surprise me if she showed up as a featured player on SNL in the future. Giamatti gets better stuff to work with, but the best stuff is still unworthy of his talents. He’s essentially the Joe Pesci character from the Home Alone movies, a bad dude getting his ass kicked by a kid, and it’s a little degrading.

The movie is inane, yet relatively harmless, so I suppose it’s worthy of possible pre-teen consumption. Parents, be forewarned: You might want to sneak out and play some arcade games during Big Fat Liar, and don’t be surprised if one of your more discerning children wants to join you.