The old adage is that “Dying is easy. Comedy is hard,” and that’s never been more evident than while watching Hot Pursuit, an agonizingly bad movie that features Reese Witherspoon and Sofia Vergara. From past work, we know that both of these women are quite talented and one would think that, what with their opposing screen personae, perhaps a comedic spark or two might fly between them. Alas, that is not the case, at least with the script written by David Feeney and John Quaintance, an amalgam of tired ideas, lackluster characters and an outcome as predictable as western sunsets.
You’ve seen this movie before. It was called Midnight Run. But unlike that comedic gem, Pursuit simply goes through the motions, containing nary an original idea, seemingly having shed them in favor of expediency as the film runs a scant 87 minutes, too long by half. Tell me if you’ve heard this one before: a by-the-book cop, by the name of Cooper (Witherspoon), has been chosen to help escort a witness for a federal trial, that would be Daniella (Vergara), from San Antonio to Dallas. Seems her husband is ready to roll over on his drug kingpin boss, making him and his lovely wife targets. Wouldn’t you know it, as soon as Cooper and her federal agent escort (Richard T. Jones, in a very brief appearance) arrive to pick up their charges, two pairs of assassins drop by to play shoot ‘em up. Cooper’s partner winds up dead and the two women end up going on the run, soon learning they are on their own and can trust no one.
All of the expected stops are made on this much-too-long trip to Dallas. Cooper and Daniella drive a cool vintage car, they stop at a biker bar, they have to spend the night at a seedy hotel, they’re required to take a bus during one leg of their journey, and on and on. Again, nothing new here; director Anne Fletcher is simply checking off boxes on her “Road Trip Movie” checklist, filming the necessary scenes with as little inspiration or invention as possible.
As far as the two stars are concerned they simply fail to generate any chemistry. This is something that either exists or doesn’t and you just can’t fake it. That’s not to say they don’t try, especially during an excruciatingly awkward scene in which they pretend to be lesbians in order to distract a good ole boy (Jim Gaffigan) who’s got the drop on them. The sequence goes on far too long as both actresses try to force the laughs instead of letting the scene and humor develop naturally. This is indicative of the sort of moments the movie consists of, the kind you look away from because you feel embarrassed for those on screen.
I’m quite sure that all involved thought they were creating a comedy classic while making this film, or at least told themselves they were. It’s hard knowing if you’re getting any laughs if there’s no audience to respond to what you’re doing. It’s probably even more difficult to tell the boss that things aren’t working. Witherspoon served as one of the producers here and perhaps no one had the nerve to tell her that the laughs simply weren’t there, or maybe everyone was simply too close to the project to be objective. Whatever the case, Pursuit succeeds in setting the bar so low that it currently sits atop (or would it be at the bottom?) of my “Worst Films of 2015” list; I’m pretty sure I’m not alone in having done this.
Contact Chuck Koplinski at [email protected].
