Film Reviews: Wednesday, September 3, 2003
A D V E R T I S E M E N T
A D V E R T I S E M E N T
Failing Spade

Another formerly edgy comic turns gushy in Dickie Roberts: Former Child Star.

By KRISTIAN LIN

Hi. I’m David Spade. Remember me? It’s OK, you can take a second. I’m the short, rat-faced comic who used to do a bit like this called “Hollywood Minute” on Saturday Night Live. Me and Sandler and Farley ruled the place back then, and I made a few bad movies just like 90 percent of all the other SNL cast members. Now I’ve got a new one out called Dickie Roberts: Former Child Star, and surprise! It’s not a total piece of crap. It’s only mostly crap.

The thing is, I used to be dangerous. I didn’t just make fun of the easy targets. I slammed the big stars, too, and sometimes I let them slam me. But somewhere between then and Dickie Roberts, I lost my edge. Maybe it happened during all the years on that lame NBC sitcom where my character kept dating supermodels a foot taller than I was. (Oh yeah, like you wouldn’t have taken that trade-off, too.) Or maybe it’s just me, mellowing out as I come up on the big 4-0. Hey, it could be worse — take a look at that prematurely grumpy old man Dennis Miller if you don’t believe me.

Anyhoo, in Dickie Roberts I play a former child star (check the title, dude — it’s in there) who’s trying to make a comeback by landing a part in a Rob Reiner film. The early stuff actually has some promise. Oh, look! There’s my backstory told as an E! special. There’s Emanuel Lewis kicking my ass on Celebrity Boxing. There’s me palling around with Danny Bonaduce and Barry Williams and Dustin Diamond, and we’re all talking about the big stars, tearing them down one moment and then building them up the next. See, in that lower circle of Hollywood, guys like Brad Pitt and George Clooney are just as distant from us as they are from you people reading the fan mags. Since I still look like someone who used to be a cute kid, and since I’ve got the sour face of someone who’s been left at the station by the fame train, I’m pretty good for this part.

But oh, no! Dickie decides he has to give himself a normal childhood so he can play the part well enough to impress Rob Reiner, so he gives $20,000 to a family to teach him how to be a kid. This part of the movie isn’t heinously bad; I get to hit on the hot mom (Mary McCormack) who doesn’t want me around, and there’s a cute bit where I dance on stilts with the little boy. The movie might have worked if somebody besides me had played Dickie. I can’t do it, though! I’ve been playing the smarmy, wisecracking guy for so long that I don’t know how to be the soft touch that Dickie’s supposed to be at the end. This sucks!

Well, it was a nice try, anyway. At least my movie has a reason for existing. Not like all those summer sequels taking up space in the theaters. That’s something to hold onto until the next movie. Omigod, look over there! It’s Sandler! Adam! Adam, it’s me, your old buddy! How’s it goin’, man? You wouldn’t happen to have P.T. Anderson’s phone number on you, would you? Well, hook me up, dude!


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