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Review: 'Love My Wife,' don't love the movie

By Tom Charity
Special to CNN

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(CNN) -- I blame the Academy Awards.

Before his Oscar hosting gig last year, Chris Rock seemed perfectly happy tagging along with Adam Sandler, playing zebras and doing "Pootie Tang."

Now here he is, translating a 35-year-old French art film to American shores, writing and directing, worrying about fidelity, acting all mature.

Somebody should start dishing out gongs before all our comedians go serious on us.

Okay, I exaggerate just a little bit.

"I Think I Love My Wife" is a comedy -- in theory, anyway. But its peculiarities outweigh the ha-has.

It's not exactly news that Hollywood has taken to remaking popular foreign language films from all over the place. Recently we have seen a glut of American versions of "J-horror," Japanese horror movies that were scarier (and probably made more sense) in their original incarnations. Before that the mainstay was broad French comedy, the inspiration for "The Birdcage," "Three Men and a Baby," "True Lies" and a multitude of less successful variations.

Even so, it's quite a stretch to go from Steve Guttenberg changing diapers to Chris Rock contemplating adultery in a remake of Eric Rohmer's "Chloe in the Afternoon."

Mr. Rohmer turns 87 next month and is currently directing his 24th feature, but he has never been what you might call a popular filmmaker, even in France. His movies are subtle, philosophical disquisitions exploring potential amorous relationships that hardly ever happen. ("I saw a Rohmer film once," Gene Hackman's character remarks in "Night Moves." "It was like watching paint dry.")

True to form, 1972's "Chloe in the Afternoon" is the story of a businessman who bumps into an old acquaintance, the free-spirited Chloe, and begins seeing more of her than his wife would like, but who hesitates to take the next step. In Rohmer's film, adultery isn't just an impulsive act, it's a moral choice.

It's appropriate, I guess, that Rock's version (co-written with long-time collaborator Louis C.K.) should be reasonably faithful to the outline of the French film even as it plays fast and loose with everything else: style, tone, sensibility, you name it.

He's a New York investment banker, Richard Cooper, seven years married to the beautiful, intelligent Brenda (Gina Torres). The marriage works but they don't "do it" anymore -- he's bored and she's tired.

So when the palpably sexy Nikki (Kerry Washington) comes back into his life, Richard is a soft touch. She starts hanging around the office, meeting him for lunch dates, reminding him what a good time looks like.

Washington -- wearing as little as possible -- certainly qualifies in that department. But Nikki doesn't come off as a free spirit. Instead, she's pure vamp: a chain-smoking, man-eating homewrecker. Her idea of fun is throwing dollar bills out the window to watch bums grab for them. Cute! She might as well have "Trouble" tattooed on her forehead. (Richard's so obtuse, he'd probably overlook it if she did.)

As for Gina Torres as Brenda, she barely gets a chance and never justifies her deep-freeze act. The marriage looks like the sham Nikki claims it is.

So what about Rock? The comedian, who's capable of much more, seems determined to tamp down his anarchic edge in the service of a weak and timid role. It's only when he breaks character -- in the staged fight over chicken for dinner you've seen in the trailer, or in a Viagra-induced nightmare -- that the movie generates any comic energy. Even Rock's trademark obsession with race feels awkwardly peripheral to the proceedings.

Rock doesn't bring much to the table as director either. The style is choppy and crass. Key plot developments skate over glaring inconsistencies (Richard has his secretary block Nikki's calls, but has she also lost the office address?). An abrupt last-minute segue into ironic post-modernism smacks of bad faith and self-indulgence.

There are the remnants of a classy comedy here. Steve Buscemi belongs in a better picture as Richard's blithe business partner, and at least Rock has the nerve to pin the moment of truth on a visual revelation.

But "I Think I Love My Wife" is a mess. Cynical and coarse, it might just be the least romantic comedy of the year. If only it had more laughs.

"I Think I Love My Wife" is rated R and runs 90 minutes. For Entertainment Weekly's take, click here.

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