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Typically, August is the month when slacker comedies rule the theaters. Gone are the mind-blowing blockbusters; in their place come sloppy stoners and brainless laughs. Surprisingly, though, this year’s August comedies—like Tropic Thunder and even Pineapple Express have been surprisingly…funny. But now, as the month heads toward its end, I’ve finally seen my first typical August comedy: The House Bunny.
Anna Faris stars as Shelley, a sweet (but not exactly brilliant) blonde who, after growing up in an orphanage, has finally found a real home—at the Playboy Mansion. Shelley’s life is perfect until the morning after her 27th birthday party, when she’s unceremoniously evicted from the Mansion and left to fend for herself.
Shelley ends up at a nearby college, where the Zeta Alpha Zeta sorority is desperately in need of a housemother—preferably one who can make them cool—because unless they can somehow get 30 new pledges, the school is shutting them down. Fortunately, Shelley is just what the homely Zetas need to spice up their lives and make them the coolest sorority on campus.
Throughout The House Bunny, one of the words that’s often used to describe Shelley is “vapid”—and I’d have to say that that pretty much covers the rest of the movie, too. It’s shallow and silly and pretty cliché.
That’s not to say, though, that The House Bunny is a total disaster. The cast is jammed with awkward characters that are sometimes actually quite loveable. Faris is perfect for her role as Shelley, the dumb blonde with a wardrobe consisting of nothing but lingerie. Kat Dennings adds some much-needed spunk as feminist rebel Mona. And Emma Stone is adorable as the socially awkward (though still totally gorgeous) Natalie. Some of the other characters, however (especially farm girl Carrie Mae, played by Dana Goodman), are just too awkward and uncomfortable to be funny.
Still, there are plenty of laughs to be found here—and, at times, it’s actually fun, in a totally shallow kind of way. But it also has more than its share of unfunny, cringe-worthy moments. And while the writers did attempt to add some depth to the main character by giving her a sad childhood (she was, after all, an ugly orphan who never had a family), the grown-up Shelley is about as deep as my toilet. And, after a while, she’s just not funny anymore. (Yep…you’re a dumb blonde. We get it already.)
So The House Bunny definitely isn’t a great comedy—but it’s not an absolutely horrible one, either. Mostly, it’s just dumb. In other words, it’s pretty standard August fare.
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