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The House Bunny, a Columbia Pictures triumph, is a muddled comedy augmented by faux-feminism centered around a Playboy bunny who gets booted from Hefner’s mansion. She later on gives life to a sorority house mother. Despite being a farce, this motion picture is a treasure trove of comic gold due to one of its lead actors, Anna Faris. This emerging actor has had a flair for the cameras for a few years. She brutally body-shamed a Cameron Diaz-esque star in her portrayal of Lost in Translation and has accepted to being put through endless vulgar humiliations as the seemingly unkillable lead character in the Scary Movie franchise. Remember Faris from Entourage? She made an appearance as herself in a classic three-episode storyline, and these episodes were remarkable because she actually told jokes on a show where women just showed off their bodies. In the barely seen comedy Smiley Face, which was out in 2007, Faris underwent a radical transformation that turned her into a female version of a stoner, and I can proudly admit that I still remember her as one of the finest actresses of that year. Regardless of all this, Faris is not a name that stands out in the industry. Instead, she is an incredibly talented supporting actress who often ends up playing cameos in leading roles.
And as long as Hollywood isn’t as reckless as the centerfold Faris portrays in The House Bunny, I have faith that this movie will eventually get someone to write her the role she truly deserves.
For the time being, we will have to settle for Faris as Shelley Darlingson, a former orphan turned into one of Hugh Hefner’s favorite bunnies at the Playboy mansion. A few days after her twenty-seventh birthday, Shelley is unceremoniously booted from the mansion for being too old. She ends up becoming a live-in housemother to the Zeta Alpha Zeta sorority, which is an outpost for and has a collection of unappealing girls sans boyfriends. (They don’t wear makeup, have piercings and are actually intelligent!) In true frat-movie fashion, the Zeta girls are losing their charter and will be forced to abandon their house unless they start getting more pledges. So Shelley assists the Zetas in learning how to flirt, glamourize, and throw awesome parties to win over a shy university nerd (Colin Hanks) who is trying to win over her by helping her drop the bunny routine and be a real person.
As a feminist, I’d rather not attempt to decipher all of this. The House Bunny, like Grease and The Breakfast Club, seems to proclaim that lip gloss and skanky clothes are the ultimate culmination of a woman’s dreams. And like those films, it doesn’t look particularly enjoyable (even though I enjoyed the mascara tutorial montage where Shelley was screaming at the girls, “Remember, the eyes are the nipples of the face!”). The Zetas – who are portrayed by an odd assortment of newcomers like Katherine McPhee from American Idol and Rumer Willis, daughter of Bruce and Demi – transition from being stereotyped losers to stereotyped hot girls at an almost physically impossible pace (and it is somewhat disturbing to make a McPhee’s character visibly pregnant without any explanation). But there’s real pathos to a scene in which Shelley performs all of her porn-based seduction tricks on a date only to find out that she has disgusted her man and made a fool out of herself.
The House Bunny is limited in its attempts to satirize the Playboy empire because its approval comes from the top, including from Hefner himself, who has cameo appearances in the mansion. The core concept that accompanies softcore porn does not translate into reality and is almost a female empowerment sentiment one could expect from a movie like this.
While the movie has moments that are cringe-worthy and laugh-free, Faris carries the movie on her shoulders with her witty charm, surprising delivery of lines, and a few skillful slips and falls. The most nonsensical, yet the funniest, joke in the film is when Shelley develops a habit of talking in a hoarse voice likened to the Exorcist while trying to recall people’s names. It gets a huge laugh from the audience even in the fifth iteration, not just because of how awkward it is, but also because it taps into a more unrefined, unfeminine side of humor which Faris is yet to explore. The House Bunny tries to convince us that its message is about valuing one’s inner self over their physical appearance. Hopefully Anna Faris’s next project goes beyond her superficial looks and embraces her true individuality.
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