David Gordon Green has carved out a special niche for himself among modern comedy directors. Like 3D technology, his films require special devices in order to make the experience comprehensible. In the case of James Cameron’s Avatar, you had to wear special viewing glasses. In the case of Green’s Pineapple Express and his latest dud, Your Highness, you have to be holding a loaded bong. And that’s just to get a mild chuckle.
Pot comedies are nothing new. Cheech and Chong were there first, and most profitably, with Up in Smoke (1978). Since then, each generation has tried to give their take on the weed subculture, and how hilarious it is. But it’s hard to say whether or not a movie is funny if you need to be loaded in order to laugh at it; chances are, you’d laugh at a dog licking its private parts in such a state.
Your Highness is sort of like Adventures in Sherweed Forest. Or maybe Dumbeth and Dumbether. The script — set in ye olden times — was supplied by Danny McBride, a likeable comedian who was also in Pineapple Express, Land of the Lost and other milestones of modern comedy. He plays Thadeous, ne’er-do-well brother to James Franco’s Fabious, a Cyclops-slaying overachiever who King Tallious favors to take over the job of running his kingdom. This all gets on the nerves of Thadeous, who’s idea of a constructive day is settling down in the glen with a couple of friends and sparking some “exotic herbs,” then chasing sheep around a meadow. He’s a wastoid, in other words. But he has a good heart, though one that’s bitter and disgruntled and chauvinist, and all the other comically charming things we’ve come to expect from men in modern-day comedies. Of course, who wouldn’t want to eschew the responsibility of adulthood, in order to sit around, screw wenches and inhale inhuman amounts of cannabis all the livelong day? At least, this seems to the definition of paradise as offered in McBride’s script.
Thadeous retains many anachronistic idioms, such as saying “mofo” and other colorful modern-day terms when the dialogue threatens to grow too medieval and annoying. In this, Your Highness reminds one of Sam Raimi’s much more clever Army of Darkness, in which Bruce Campbell is hurtled back into medieval times to retrieve the Necronomicon, though he’s allowed to use modern technology to kick some undead ass. In contrast, Your Highness simply plunks us down among these armor-wearing dudes and tries to squeeze a few chuckles out of us.
Granted, there are a few laughs to be had. McBride is a funny presence, and the jokes about the severed Minotaur’s shlong manage to rise above the level of mediocrity. But it’s the presence of two name-brand actresses — Zooey Deschanel and (ahem) Oscar winner Natalie Portman — that really makes one wonder what everyone who concocted this movie was smoking.
Deschanel plays Fabious’ true love, Belladonna, who’s been imprisoned by Lezar (Justin Theroux), a wicked sorcerer who plans to de-virginize the maiden before Fabious can rescue her. She has a few good lines, and is fetching in a bustier and corset, but doesn’t get to do much except lie back and think of England. (Oh, yeah: she does sing a tune at one point. Imagine that.)
Portman gets a meatier role, outwitting Thadeous and kicking hydra butt in one of the movie’s laborious special effects outings. She also displays her very own butt in one scene (not the first time, viewers of Wes Anderson’s Hotel Chevalier will remember, but still). It’s a puzzle as to why Portman chose this vehicle on the heels of her Oscar turn in Black Swan. My sister-in-law has a theory about Oscar-winning actresses: most of them have to descend into the pits of hell to pull off their Oscar-worthy roles: Halle Berry in Monster’s Ball, Nicole Kidman in The Hours, Charlize Theron in Monster, Portman in Black Swan. My sis-in-law thinks the experience is so grueling, they don’t want to dive into the abyss again after winning their trophy. Could be. This might explain why Portman is now opting for stupid pot comedies like Your Highness. Anyway, she’s still a couple leagues above her colleagues, performance-wise. I guess she thought the Academy might still be paying attention.
There’s other curious casting. Esteemed actor Toby Jones gets a nothing role, playing a scheming bad guy named Julie; Iga Wrywal, a busty Czech men’s magazine model, takes the role of the “Dwarf Queen”; and English actor Rasmus Hardiker scores sympathy points as Thadeous’s smarter man-servant, Courtney.
Franco, meanwhile, plays a straight arrow, so dedicated to his quest that he doesn’t even drink beer. But of course the two come to bond together over a hookah or two and eventually learn to look out for each other’s backs. It’s a bromance between long-estranged brothers, in other words.
I wanted to like Your Highness, mostly because of its title, which has possibilities. I also liked the title Pineapple Express, but found the actual movie nearly impossible to sit through in a linear fashion: I’d catch 30 minutes of it on DVD, fast-forward, skip around chapters, then decide to bail in utter frustration. Then I’d see the last 30 minutes showing on Cinemax months later and try to give it another go. Nope, still didn’t make any sense. Your Highness at least made so few demands on me that I didn’t even bother to hit the fast-forward button. But sitting through its lengthy 81 minutes, I couldn’t help feeling I was missing out on some important viewing aid, some kind of magical device that would render all this stuff sensible. I kept waiting for the punchline. But perhaps the joke was simply on me.