THE SECRET LIFE OF WALTER MITTY

Stars: Ben Stiller, Kristen Wiig, Adam Scott, Sean Penn, Patton Oswalt, Kathryn Hahn and Shirley Maclaine.
Writer: Steve Conrad; based on the short story by James Thurber.
Director: Ben Stiller.

Rating: 2/5

A sleek, schizophrenic ode to the imagination that barely exhibits one of its own, Ben Stiller’s latest vehicle, The Secret Life of Walter Mitty, plays as false and forced as most other commercially-minded cash-ins aimed at exploiting the feel-good Festive season mood.

Stiller prefers deeper and darker as a director, his past films behind the camera exhibiting an inquisitive, insightful sensibility (Reality Bites) and fearless comedic eye (The Cable Guy, Zoolander, Tropic Thunder). Alternatively, his on-screen persona (in films directed by others) offers mostly his lovable schlub everyman in unashamedly commercial pap (most of his films from the last decade, notably the …Fockers series, Night at the Museum’s 1 and 2, The Heartbreak Kid, Tower Heist and his voiced character in the Madagascar films).

The two worlds collide in his adaptation of James Thurber’s 1939 short story, in which a hen-pecked husband dreamt of heroism while on a shopping trip with his wife. Barring a thematically unexplored take on the ‘daydreamer’ angle, none of this exists in Stiller’s film; the 12 producers (!) have made the film relevant by focussing on the glum existence of a photo-negative manager at LIFE magazine (which shut up shop in 2000, so its not that modern after all) who embarks upon a series of international adventures to secure a missing frame of film destined to become the publication’s final cover.

The flights of fancy that Thurber’s Mitty undertook (and that were brought to glorious, resonant life in the 1947 adaptation with Danny Kaye) are turned into showy effects spectacles by Stiller. A mid-air leap into a burning building to save a three-legged dog, a downtown chase sequence opposite his office adversary, Ted (a meagre contribution by Adam Scott) and a recreation of Iceland’s volcano eruption are entirely unengaging; Mitty’s series of projected heroic self-images in the presence of his office sweetheart, Cheryl (Kristen Wiig, taking a backwards career step) are so removed from the character's reality, they suggest a borderline unstable dissociative condition. The one inspired highlight is a ‘Benjamin Button’ gag that is both hilarious and wildly at odds with the rest of the film’s conservative tone.

As saggy and insipid as the story becomes and as bloated and showy as Stiller’s notion of whimsy is, what is most troubling is the film’s confused message. Mitty seemingly launches into his global adventure mostly to keep his reputation and career record in good stead. Rousing orchestral chords over scenes of Walter skateboarding against a mountain backdrop or plunging into the icy depths from a helicopter only highlight what a shallow existential journey he is ultimately indulging in; as far as he travels from his corporate base, his mission is still in the service of his employer. This angle may seem more prevalent because the romantic subplot is so inconsequential; regardless, it leaves the film with a hollow core.

Unlike the similarly-themed yet vastly superior The Truman Show and Joe vs The Volcano, in which heroes find their inner essence in proud and profound defiance of the corporations they had allowed to define their lives, Walter Mitty travels the world without ever abandoning his ‘basement cubicle’ sense of self. It is a deflating notion, ensuring the wish-fulfilment fantasy that will clog multiplexes come Christmas time may be the most depressing film of the year.