As comedies go, Anna Faris’ new vehicle, The House Bunny, is as lightweight as you can get. The initial opening scenes establish Anna’s character, Shelley, as being an orphan who finds a family with good old Hugh Hefner and grows up as your consummate Playboy bunny living in The Mansion. One can only dream how skewed this girl’s life is going to be being raised in such an environment but alas this is a comedy not some sociological study into such an experiment. Shelley has her own dreams of finally becoming a Playboy centerfold but the day after her 27th birthday she finds herself kicked out of the Mansion since, “27 is 59 in bunny years.”

She soon finds herself in a rundown station wagon, homeless and now without a family but as per these films, still completely plucky and full of self-confidence. Stumbling on an out of luck women’s sorority house filled obviously with misfits she takes it upon herself to become the den mother and give these girls a lesson in “grrrrl power”. In what ranks as a complete surprise (snicker) she bestows her considerable knowledge gleaned from years as a Playboy bunny onto her charges leading to what can now be considered “the makeover cliché” as once plain, downtrodden girls with bad odour are suddenly transformed into, what Shelley calls, “sexy bi*ches.” Cinderella would be rolling over in her grave right about now.

While the setup is unique the movie then settles into an all too familiar rhythm. The story is completely telegraphed and while Shelley’s antics initially get these sorority girls to break out the makeup and dress in revealing clothing you can tell there’s going to be conflict rising when they discover that looks can be deceiving. You’ve seen this movie before as well as its underlying female empowerment message so much so you can tell the ending right up to the big speech that will leave the film’s numerous characters cheering in the aisles.

We’ve seen this character before as well when she was called Elle Woods. Ring a bell? Yes, this is the writing team which previously brought us Legally Blonde. The House Bunny definitely is more than inspired by that franchise.

So, if the movie is too formulaic what is there to recommend? Simple. This is Anna Faris’ movie and she gives such an impassioned portrayal of your typical blonde bimbo that it borders on masterful. This is one instance where you can say it takes brains to play dumb. I am reminded of Robert Downey Junior’s line from Tropic Thunder, “You never go full retard.” As such, Shelley is not really as airheaded as she first appears although she spends most of the running time completely butchering the English language especially the word, philanthropy. She is completely clueless as to what certain words mean like “vapid” but she takes it in stride oblivious to the fact that everyone knows she is being insulted. Faris invigorates Shelley, a character that could be grating, with enough gumption, albeit at times misplaced, that the audience has no choice but to applaud her perky resolve.

The actresses playing the various misfits don’t get much chance to shine as the focus is firmly rooted on Shelley but one does manage to stand out from the pack. Emma Stone as Natalie takes your stereotypical nerdy girl with glasses and then seems to channel a young Lindsey Lohan when she blossoms into a leggy redhead with freckles. The other girls do get a few scenes to shine but they are too boxed in by the archetypes that they originate from to make much of an impression– the pregnant girl, the girl in braces, the mute, the hillbilly. Still, this group of girls seems to be having genuine fun with each other and it shows in their easy camaraderie.

For a film that features a Playboy inspired origin the jokes and mature material are surprisingly kept to, pardon the pun, a bare minimum. There’s virtually no nudity as you only get one scene involving Shelley’s naked rump and very little cursing unless you count “bi*ch” and even then it isn’t even used in a derogatory manner. Playboy trappings aside this film is firmly in the PG-13 genre. What seems a bit more muddled though is the film’s empowerment message. Being a guy maybe I’m not the right person to judge here as I’m definitely not the target audience but it seems to be that like Legally Blonde and other similar movies there’s a fine line between feminist power and appearing to be a slut especially after their makeover where just about every male salivates as they walk past. Even after they achieve their epiphany that gains them the self-confidence they need to succeed none of the girls goes back to the dowdy way they looked before.

Nevertheless, the movie’s heart is in the right place and every character including Shelley does significantly grow more mature. About the only characters that are stilted and undercooked, not surprisingly since this is a movie geared to women, are the men. Colin Hanks plays Oliver, a rather unassuming man who Shelley bumps into and immediately gets a crush on. Hanks, who is really channelling his famous dad more and more, seems a bit lost for most of the running time but his understated acting actually provides a calming anchor especially when matched with Faris’ flamboyance.

The House Bunny ends up as an innocuous piece of silly entertainment. Thankfully, the film knows exactly what it is and never takes itself seriously. Still, this faux girl empowerment subtext is beginning to wear a bit thin especially if girls have to constantly show off their physical assets to win over the opposite sex. Then again, maybe that is going to take a much deeper movie to tackle. For now, this film is like coke zero – drink it fast and you won’t notice it going down.

**1/2 out of ****

2008, USA, 97 minutes, PG-13, Columbia
Directed by Fred Wolf
Written by Karen McCullah Lutz, Kirsten Smith
Produced by Allen Covert, Jack Giarraputo, Heather Parry, Adam Sandler
Executive Producer: Anna Faris, Karen McCullah Lutz, Kirsten Smith
Original Music by Waddy Wachtel
Cinematography by Shelly Johnson
Film Editing by Debra Chiate

Shelley Darlingson: Anna Faris
Oliver: Colin Hanks
Natalie: Emma Stone
Mona: Kat Dennings
Harmony: Katharine McPhee
Joanne: Rumer Willis
Lilly: Kiely Williams
Carrie Mae: Dana Goodman
Tanya: Kimberly Makkouk
Cassandra: Monet Mazur

© 2009 The Galactic Pillow