Trading on cruelty, fake sentiment and crass sight gags (exhibit A: a wanking dog), Due Date is so far off the mark it’s hard to believe it survived the production process at all. Are Robert Downey Jr., Zach Galifianakis and Todd Phillips really so hot right now that, at some point, no one in power had the balls to say, 'Guys, this movie ain’t funny"? America’s coolest actor, funniest new comedian and hottest directing talent have somehow conspired to make one of the most worthless films in recent memory.
Downey Jr. is Peter Highman, an expectant father and generally smarmy jerk who, via the most unbelievable of occurrences, finds himself stuck in a small car for the long drive from Atlanta to Los Angeles with Galifianakis’ Ethan Tremblay. Tremblay is carrying the ashes of his late father (in an old coffee tin – what could possibly go wrong?) and dreams of snaring a guest spot on Two and a Half Men, and riding the ensuing wave of stardom.
Tremblay is 'eccentric’, to say the least – in one scene that sums up the level of wit to which all involved aspire, he masturbates in front of Peter to help get to sleep. So socially awkward and incapable of sympathetic human interaction as to be borderline certifiable, Tremblay is one of the most obnoxious screen characters you’ll ever see; his actions and reactions so guileless and without consideration for decency it is highly unlikely he will survive 10 minutes in gun-friendly LA. Galifianakis pulled off a similar role in his last film with director Phillips, The Hangover (2009), but here they forego all that is lovable and settle on all that is unbearable.
As pregnant wife Sarah (Michelle Monaghan, taking a big backward step after a couple of lead roles in recent years) is having a C-section, there is no urgency for Highman to hurry home, so Downey Jr.’s furrowed-brow version of frustration is all for nought. He could leave this party at any time (a notion I contemplated on several occasions) yet persists in staying with Tremblay for no discernible reason other than the patently false 'friendship’ the audience is asked to believe is developing between the two men.
Though the film’s failings are not entirely his fault, it is Downey Jr. whose reputation suffers the most from this debacle. Looking every bit his age, he wears a hangdog expression and general air of disinterest throughout. There are several moments where he just seems to be standing in frame, like furniture.
Without wanting to overstate the degree to which the film misfires, it must be noted that Phillips fails with elements of filmmaking 101: Due Date is underlit and the editing never finds any comedic rhythm; mystifyingly, the camera is positioned at a distance from much of the action, with floor- and ceiling-mounted angles at key moments just plain wrong. The director pushed all the right buttons with The Hangover, but he doesn’t possess a natural talent to make weak material work – his undercooked Starsky and Hutch (2004) and execrable School for Scoundrels (2006) attest to that fact.
Comedic interludes with usually reliable supports such as Danny McBride (as a violent, wheelchair-bound veteran), Juliette Lewis (a dope-dealer, whose obnoxious children Peter physically abuses) and Jamie Foxx (just some rich friend of Highman’s who"¦ here it comes"¦ has no coffee in his house!) are pointless and mirthless. Credit where it’s due, though – the final scenes, do inspire a chuckle.
Comparisons to the much-loved Steve Martin/John Candy film Planes, Trains and Automobiles (1987) are unavoidable but frankly insulting; they only serve to remind how fine director John Hughes’ film really was and how unfathomably bad Due Date is, in every respect.
