So I saw “Bridesmaids” this weekend in what was a more-or-less packed theater. By all appearances it killed. Rounds of audience laughter came heavy and often. “Bridesmaids” has attracted much attention from the film press as a paradigm-shifting attempt to apply the Judd Apatow comedic formula to a largely female cast. Some of the most effusive praise for Bridesmaids heralds it as a milestone in comedy movie history — representing the dawn of a new era of woman-led comedies that deal humorously with female subject matter yet employ a style of comedy punchy enough to attract male viewers. Although I don’t think that “Bridesmaids” is the first recent comedy to achieve this gender-bridging quality (2004’s “Mean Girls” comes to mind), it does continue this tradition successfully.
The most interesting part of “Bridesmaids” for me was watching Kristen Wiig’s performance. Wiig is an interesting choice for a lead film acting role. Wiig is a strong actress — one of the better pure acting talent’s Saturday Night Live (SNL) has had in recent years — and her terrific work on SNL has relied on this talent. Wiig has excelled at creating characters who are well-defined, angsty, quirky, and hilarious but also who are rather small and reserved personality-wise. Wiig’s greatest comedic successes have often come when playing rather muted characters forced to react to provocations from a more dominant and plot-driving lead performer. Although Wiig’s terrifically expressive face and penchant for physical slapstick humor has enabled her to be a consistent scene-stealer in her past work, on entering the theater there still was reason to wonder whether Wiig could fulfill the duties of a lead actor.
I think Wiig lived up to the challenge although there were moments in the film where Wiig seemed to recede into the background unintentionally and seemed to be overshadowed by (admittedly, fantastic) ensemble cast mates through sheer force of presence. Wiig clearly has the ability to play her characters big — as she does on (what I’ll euphemistically refer to as) the “airplane scene” and the “bridal shower” scene. However, given her place as the film’s lead and most “central-to-the-action” character, her instinctive tendencies to play smaller and more subtly left the film lacking in energy and feeling adrift at certain points.
I left the film thinking that the actor Wiig most reminds me of is none other than the great silent film star Charlie Chaplin. Wiig shares (but does not equal) Chaplin’s ability for physical comedy. Also, like Chaplin, Wiig has a tremendous ability to hold audiences attention by revealing her inner life with mere facial twitches. But is it enough? Chaplin occupies the first spot on most critics’ Mount Rushmore of comedic actors but would his style work as well with modern audiences? This is the most interesting part of the Wiig-as-film-lead experiment. Not only does her success affirm that the girls can be just as much fun as the boys, it radically suggests that subtlety, too, can make for big laughs.
