DVD Dish

Rupert Everett’s new movie: What a drag

As a brainless British farce gung-ho on spreading grrrl-power, St. Trinian’s asks a lot of you just to see Rupert Everett in drag. Patience, to ride out the whole tedious affair. A simple sense of humor, to find the laughs in cheap fart and dog-humping jokes. And a strong stomach, to endure reputable actors in regrettable roles: Colin Firth, brilliant in A Single Man and uncomfortable to watch here, and Everett, pulling double-duty as the unruly school’s headmistress and its new student’s father.
Like the infamous 1954 film on which it’s based, The Belles of St. Trinian’s, the crux concerns a group of heinous girls hell-bent on saving their school from shutting down, doing it with true Trinian trickery – swiping a famous painting and selling it on the black market. Oh, how cunning. Too bad the witless flick isn’t even remotely as sharp as their scheme. The laughs sag, characters flat-line and the slapdash script should’ve gone down with the school.
Firth, as the man bringing the institution down and Everett’s former love interest, is one-note – a respectable, even great, actor who shows considerable depth as a gay man in A Single Man, but can’t do much with this ditzy dreck. One scene has him investigating the bug-swarmed school, looking disgusted. That look probably says more about his undignified part in this film than the bit itself.
Brit comic Russell Brand, as the schoolgirl’s tool, can’t act, but the MTV tween audience he’ll attract here won’t care. Only Everett, as he completely camps up the part, is amusing as Ms. Fritton – engaging in a goofy fight, smoking a blunt and looking like he’s having a helluva time doing it all. “Don’t you think I make a remarkable queen?” he asks. In old-woman garb, Everett does, but the role’s still rather unremarkable (drag in a British film, how original) – and seeing him star in it feels like a waste. The talented, endearing and very out Englishman, having mostly ditched meaty parts in recent years, deserves better than the broad strokes of St. Trinian’s.
And even with Oliver Parker (The Importance of Being Earnest) in the director’s chair, the flick feels amateurish with its very slick music-video sensibility and desperate attempts at eliciting laughs: holy crap, that’s a man in a dress! Farting! How funny! The last half especially drags when the school’s bimbos compete during a trivia showdown while the brainiacs try to steal the Vermeer piece; it’s all very Spy Kids-meets-Mean Girls without any of the smarts, sass or heart of the gay-loved latter. The worst part, though, is this: There’s a sequel.