HouseSitter

Directed by Frank Oz, HouseSitter follows Goldie Hawn’s Gwen Duncle as she worms her way into the life (and home) of a successful architect named Newton Davis (Steve Martin). It’s an oddball premise that’s employed to basically watchable yet entirely forgettable effect by Oz, as the filmmaker, armed with Mark Stein’s screenplay, delivers a sluggish endeavor that relies mostly on the charisma of its performers to sustain the viewer’s less-than-rapt interest and attention – with both Martin and Hawn turning in work that’s as dynamic and compelling as one might’ve anticipated. (And it doesn’t hurt, certainly, that there exists a palpable sense of chemistry between the two.) There’s little doubt, then, that HouseSitter‘s failure is due predominantly to its curious (and increasingly problematic) absence of laughs or even chuckles, as the emphasis on a series of pointedly unfunny set-pieces paves the way for a midsection and third act that grows less and less engaging as time progresses – which, in turn, ensures that the frenetic climax is hardly able to pack the riotous, hilarious punch that Oz is obviously striving for. The end result is a meandering comedy that effectively squanders the talent both in front of and behind the camera, thus cementing HouseSitter‘s place as a regrettable misfire that evaporates from one’s mind minutes after the end credits have rolled.

** out of ****