Run, Fat Boy, Run
Directed by David Schwimmer
Written by Michael Ian Black and Simon Pegg
Starring Hank Azaria, Thandie Newton and Simon Pegg
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Classification: PG
Rating: 
Its peculiar strain of anti-Americanism aside, Run, Fat Boy, Run tries to bridge the gap between self-deprecating Brits and self-aggrandizing Yanks, settling down somewhere between the two. Don't ask me where, exactly, but this mid-Atlantic meeting point is an ultra-neutral zone.
From storyline to characterization to style of comedy, everything about the directorial debut of former Friends star David Schwimmer is a nod to accommodation, compromise and consensus. In different contexts (say the Middle East), compromise would be a dream come true. But Run, Fat Boy, Run would have been better off taking sides. Given its director's TV roots, the best way to describe how this desired shift of allegiance should play out is: more Little Britain and less Friends.
The film's warm bursts of humour (there are plenty) come from script and performance touches its English star, Simon Pegg, presumably introduced into Michael Ian Black's American screenplay. Originally set in New York, Run, Fat Boy, Run was overhauled and transplanted to London by Pegg once a British production company expressed interest in the property. It's not a star vehicle for Pegg like Shaun of the Dead – particularly given many scene-stealing supporting performances – but he's still carrying the movie on his broad comedic shoulders.
Pegg plays Dennis, a lovable loser who, five years earlier, ran out on his pregnant girlfriend, Libby (Thandie Newton), on their wedding day. Now a smoking, drinking and (slightly) overweight security guard in a lingerie shop, Dennis is determined to win back Libby and his son, Jake (Matthew Fenton), from the new boyfriend Whit (Hank Azaria), an all-American slim-cut hedge fund manager.
The two physically unequal men square off at a London marathon.
Who will win the race and get the girl? Well, no need to fret over that one for long. Neither Pegg nor Schwimmer has any plans to make a movie with a genuine dramatic conflict between two rivals.
We're meant to root for Dennis and hiss at Whit from the get-go. Why is Whit the villain? Because he's an American who has money and doesn't chug back three pints of lager with his greasy lunch.
Run, Fat Boy, Run has similar other shortcuts that are either lazy or ridiculous. Is there any man alive who would leave the unbelievably gorgeous Newton at the altar? Certainly not once he sees how Schwimmer's direction idolizes her every move.
We're then asked to believe that the London run of The Lord of the Rings musical is sold out and the only way for Dennis to get tickets is to buy them off a scalper. Didn't that musical just announce its closing dates after playing at 40 per cent capacity for most of its run? Like the marathon, named after a well-known sports brand that makes other appearances in the film, that ticket mix-up segment reeks of product placement. Even Richard Greatrex's cinematography falls somewhere between a love letter to London and an infomercial for its tourism board.
The closer the film stays to Pegg's world of the anti-romantic hero in a dingy basement apartment, the better it is as drama and the funnier as comedy. Pegg shares those screen moments with Dylan Moran, who plays his best friend with a winning humanity and humour.
The relationship between these two men is in fact the most romantic thing in the movie, and Schwimmer, taking a page from the old Friends book, does his best work as a director there. He knows when to leave a tender moment alone and when a sharp edit delivers a punch line with the force a good (or a gross-out) joke deserves.
It doesn't last, though. Run, Fat Boy, Run reverts back to its old ways in the final and painfully long marathon sequence, amplifying every cliché of American sports movies along the way.
It's all preceded by a speech about runners “hitting the wall” and a mind-over-matter pep talk from Whit that Dennis dismisses as American psychobabble.
Guess what? Whit's personal philosophy ultimately saves Dennis. Schwimmer and Pegg end on the same conciliatory note that started the movie. Well, if your goal is compromise, might as well be consistent.
Special to The Globe and Mail
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