The Man Who Knew Too Little

DIRECTOR
Jon Amiel

SCREENWRITERS
Robert Farrar
Howard Franklin
based on the novel Watch That Man by
Robert Farrar

PRODUCERS
Arnon Milchan
Michael Nathanson
Mark Tarlov

CINEMATOGRAPHER
Robert Stevens

MUSIC
Chris Young

EDITOR
Pamela Power

CAST

Bill Murray (Wallace Ritchie)
Peter Gallagher (Jimmy Ritchie)
Joanne Whalley (Lori)
Alfred Molina (Boris Ivanovich)
Richard Wilson (Daggenhurst)
Geraldine James (Dr. Kropotkin)

MPAA rating: PG
Running time: 94m
U.S. release: November 14, 1997
Video availability: VHS - DVD

Other Jon Amiel films
reviewed on this website:

- Copycat

 I doubt that The Man Who Knew Too Little was made to cash in on the success of Austin Powers, since the earlier comedy came out in May and even Hollywood isn't that fast. But I do have a feeling that this movie was finished a while ago, shelved by the studio -- who goes to spy comedies any more? -- and then dusted off after Austin Powers made money (so that's who goes). If you think The Man Who Knew Too Little is funny, you probably haven't seen Austin Powers, and if you thought Austin Powers was funny, watch it again instead of seeing this.

You have to be a Bill Murray fan, or in an especially generous mood, to find this movie more than mildly amusing. I fit into both categories, and I think I chuckled maybe twice. Murray, a master of hostile irony, is sadly miscast here as Wallace, a wimpy Blockbuster Video clerk and failed actor who gets embroiled in an assassination plot. He does provide what few laughs there are, and he has a nice bit when he's tied up and suffering an allergy attack, trying not to sneeze. But think back on Murray's best roles. How many of them required him to play stupid? Demented, maybe -- Carl the gopher-hating greenskeeper in Caddyshack comes to mind -- but flat-out stupid, no.

Here, Murray has to be not only dumb but naïve. The only way Wallace prevails is by sheer idiotic luck. On his birthday, Wallace goes to London to visit his slick yuppie brother (Peter Gallagher), who signs Wallace up for a new interactive game called Theater of Life -- in which the player has simulated adventures with a troupe of role-playing actors. Unlike Michael Douglas in The Game, Wallace eagerly submits to the experience, which, unbeknownst to him, is real: some actual spies think he's a hit-man and order him to kill a woman (Joanne Whalley) who possesses some incriminating letters. Instead, he helps her stay a step ahead of her pursuers, while his "bosses" monitor him in bafflement.

Perhaps you're starting to feel how boring the plot is. Wallace keeps thinking that all the intrigue is just part of the game, while the spies keep thinking he's some fearsome assassin. When everyone on the screen is a moron, it's hard to stay interested in a movie or to find it funny. Given Murray's usual jaded persona -- think of Stripes and Ghostbusters -- wouldn't it be funnier if he'd played a cynical wise-ass who didn't take the danger seriously, going along with the "game" half-heartedly? Maybe, since Wallace works at Blockbuster, he might have seen all the Bond films on video and taken his cue from them. But Murray as an innocent dimwit really doesn't do it for me.

Then we have the obligatory action scenes without the spin needed to make them funny; most of this stuff was done better in Grosse Pointe Blank. When Wallace is in a car chase and swerves to knock over a row of traffic cones, he says, "I've always wanted to do that." So have I, and that was one of the two times I laughed. The other time was later in the same scene, at an overhead shot of Wallace's car leading his pursuers around a roundabout. Otherwise I was glad I brought my watch and sorry I didn't bring a magazine.