The Birdcage
3/4
Starring: Robin Williams, Nathan Lane, Gene Hackman, Dianne
Wiest, Dan Futterman, Hank Azaria, Calista Flockhart
Rated R for Language
When it comes to gay comedies, the pinnacle of the genre is
probably “Le Cage aux Folles” by Jean Poiret (it’s at least the best
known). It was made into a film in 1978
by Francois Verber, the master of French farce, and in 1996, an American film
version came out filled with talent from top to bottom. The result isn’t nearly as funny as it could
have been (time could be a factor), but I still liked it.
Armand Goldman is the proud owner of “The Birdcage,” the
hottest drag club in South Beach. His
partner is Albert (Lane), the drag queen (emphasis on “queen”) who is the star of the
show. Together, the two have raised
Armand’s son, Val (Futterman), the product of a one-night-stand. Now, Val is going to walk down the aisle,
which horrifies his parents because he’s only 20. But it’s about to get a whole lot worse: his
fiancée, Barbara (Flockhart) is the daughter of Sentator Kevin Keely (Hackman),
the chairman of the Comission for Moral Order.
This guy makes Pat Robertson look like Al Gore; he thinks that Billy
Graham is too liberal. They’re coming to
meet Val’s family, and that’s when all hell breaks loose.
“The Birdcage” is really two different kinds of
comedies. The first and largest part,
which sets the stage and introduces the characters, relies mainly on jokes,
gags and characters for laughs. The
final act, the dinner, is a screwball comedy:
Miscommunication, misunderstandings and soup bowls that could charitably
be called “inappropriate” turn the night into a complete disaster.
The acting is solid; Robin Williams, famous for playing
over-the-top characters, proves that he can get just as many laughs by playing
the straight man. He wisely leaves the
histrionics to Nathan Lane, whose Albert contains enough over-the-top moments
for this movie and two sequels. Lane is
terrific, but the character becomes repetitive, and Lane isn’t able to do much
to prevent that. As Senator Keely,
Hackman is good as the neo-conservative, something that the actor is known for
(despite the fact that in real life, Hackman is a soft-spoken liberal). Dianne Wiest is miscast; her acting as
Keely’s doting wife is caricature level, and compared to Albert, that’s saying
something. Dan Futterman and Calista
Flockhart are also good as the lovebirds, while Christine Baranski and Hank
Azaria round out the cast as Katherine, Armand’s said lover (of 90 minutes) and
Agador, the flamboyant butler.
Known for being a dramatic theater director who has ventured
into movies, Mike Nichols may seem like an odd choice to direct a full-on
comedy like this (“Working Girl” was a comedy-drama with an emphasis on the
latter), and while his workmanship is solid, I can’t imagine what it could have
been with a director with a surer hand at comedy. While some of the jokes are dated, there’s
nothing deep or dramatic about this movie, and that requires a different sort
of technique than Nichols has.
Still, for those who are looking for a few yuks, this one fits the bill.
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