Movie Review - The D Train

The D Train * (out of 5) ( R) Remember when Jack Black’s manic comedic style seemed hip, edgy and hilarious? After watching this turkey, it’s hard to recall those days. Black stars as a former high-school nerd, still desperately seeking popularity among his peers years later by vigorously chairing the reunion committee. When no one seems interested in him or the event, he decides to track down the coolest guy from their class (James Marsden), who’d left the Rust Belt to try acting in Hollywood. Black spins a series of lies to his boss, family and others to get to the Left Coast, and do whatever he must to secure Marsden’s appearance, hoping to thereby bask in the reflected glow of the stud’s aura. When he lands the big fish, Black’s social stock soars...until the inevitable moment of reckoning.

Unlike Las Vegas, what happens in high school apparently follows you everywhere and forever, at least according to myriad movies - mostly comedies - about former teen idols trying to relive what turned out to be their peak years. Or, more frequently, all types of outcasts healing their psychic scars via combinations of payback and/or new insights about meaning in their lives. Why are these waters plied so often?

Perhaps the low end of high schools’ social “food chains” tends to disproportionately produce screenwriters; same theory as so many shrinks being nuts because they chose that field to purge their own demons. Or it could be that audiences relate to these tales because hardly anyone in this culture escapes those seminal years with self-esteem intact. Even many of those high in the pecking order likely chafe at memories of failures, rejections, shortcomings, etc. that may not have blown their status at the time, but still left them feeling less entitled to it. That’s why Sissy Spacek as telekinetic Carrie literally bringing down the house when humiliated at her prom figuratively has done the same for generations of viewers.

Regardless of the cause(s), this script stuffs Black’s character into an awkward, uncomfortable state of cinematic limbo. It’s not funny enough for farce; snarky enough for dark comedy; or credible in setting up empathy for its sentimental side to ring true. As Black flails through this painful (for his character and the audience) ordeal, the odds for anyone leaving the theater as a satisfied customer dwindle. Jim Carrey, Robin Williams and other high-octane comedians found worthy vehicles for age-appropriate transitions into other styles of comedy, and even dramas. Eddie Murphy has been noticeably less successful in that regard. Let’s hope Black will find his way to the former path, rather than bury his considerable gifts in duds like this. (5/8/15)