Yaaaaawwwwwwwnnnnnn.
Casa De Mi Padre has its heart in the right place. It is Will Ferrell’s attempt to send up of Mexican import tales from the 1970’s in the way Rob Reiner does in his great movies: by simultaneously lampooning and embracing the genre. While there is certainly a few inspired gags, the story as well as Will Ferrell speaking Spanish are just not interesting enough to keep the audience’s attention for a full 84 minutes. Though Ferrell can now cross advertise his films, this is not one he should market.
Armando Alvarez (Will Ferrell) is the more stupid, less loved son of his father (Pedro Armendariz), mostly because of a tragic event involving his mother. Another reason is that his brother (Raul, played by Diego Luna) is also a fond lover of many women, including his future bride, Sonia (Genesis Rodriguez). What his Armando’s father doesn’t know is that his brother has gotten involved with the drug trade, which runs into contact with a rival (Gael Garcia Bernal) and two DEA officers (Manuel Urrego and Nick Offerman). When deals go bad and Sonia is captured, Armando and his two friends (Effren Ramirez and Adrian Martinez) join forces with Raul to get her back; it also helps that Armando by this point has fallen hopelessly in love with Sonia.
This plot is a standard of those 70’s imports. Casa De Mi Padre lacks what better self-referential movies have: interesting characters and plot. The characters never get past loose types, except for maybe Ferrell. This limits the payoff and momentum of the story, which follows a very safe structure to the inevitable climax shootout. The movie tries to place the plot and in-jokes on equal footing, to the detriment of both. The jokes hit too intermittently, and the plot doesn’t get time to develop. The bipolar nature of Casa De Mi Padre Keeps it from getting off the ground.
The sad thing is that the subtle nature of the jokes builds to some great gags, easily one of the highlights of Casa De Mi Padre. Painted settings, puppet animals, airport walkways, missing reels, face closeups, and poorly rolled cigarettes are just some of the examples that are employed. When each gag gets explicitly called out, usually the payoff is a few scenes in the making, such as a deleted scene involving real tigers replaced with fake puppets and an apology signed by the director. These sporadic moments give life to Casa De Mi Padre, but not enough to justify sitting through filler. Most importantly, the climax doesn’t deliver the goods. Similar shootouts have been filmed in other movies to greater effect, and there are not enough character moments to warrant an emotional response to raise the stakes of the showdown.
The acting is warranted by what the screenplay asks. Genesis Rodriguez exudes sexuality. Diego Luna and Pedro Armendariz are veterans of this genre. Nick Offerman gives someone else people will recognize, etc. Ferrell is the biggest gamble, having the biggest arc while speaking entirely in Spanish. Supposedly he worked with an acting coach for a long time to get the accent right, and his hard work is evident. His arc is as obvious as the story, so Ferrell does the requisite changes to his character as the story goes on. While not interesting, Ferrell is very believable in this genre, another bright light among many dull ones in Casa De Mi Padre.
Expert genre send ups are harder to pull off since this sub-genre has grown rapidly this past decade and there is a growing dichotomy between the good and the bad. Casa De Mi Padre tries, but it falls more on the bad side. Will Ferrell doesn’t fail with this movie; he gets an incomplete. I cannot wait until he appears in something else where he has to speak Spanish, because he shows he has the chops to do it.