White Chicks

Lemme settle something: a racist/xenophobic/whatever film, White Chicks certainly is not. It is far, far too light on the satire of stereotypical characters to justify that kind of description.

It is, however, one of the crudest, most low-brow films you'll ever see. Think of American Pie 46, only worse. Most jokes are driven so far into the ground that they are emerging in Australia. The ones that do make you laugh are where comic timing and character pays off.

Kevin and Marcus Copeland (that's the Wayans) are two hopeless FBI agents. Their boss is not happy with their constant screwing up and is about to send their asses off to Iraq. But instead, they are given babysitting duties to a couple of spoilt-rotten rich bitches Brittany and Tiffany Wilson (think Paris and Nicole).

After a "fatal" accident, said kidnap bait are hotel-ridden for a week, so Kevin and Marcus use their knack for disguises to go undercover as Brittany and Tiffany to sniff out who are the ones out to kidnap them. Hi-jinks and misunderstanding plot developments follow.

Like I said, the bulk of jokes revolve around loud farts, transvestism and nasty eating habits. But the really funny ones usually come from Terry Cruz, as Latrell Spencer, a black ball player with an unholy affection for white chicks. Naturally he takes a shine to one of them and becomes infatuated. He's really hilarious and without him the movie would be down there with the likes of Scary Movie 2.

I do like Keenen Ivory Wayans. His send up of Blaxploitation pix in A Low Down Dirty Shame was good and he was Steven Seagal's sidekick in The Glimmer Man. Since then, he's made a name for himself directing these really crude, low-aiming comedy films. A bit of a waste, I say.

The movie's main, utterly obvious fault is that Shawn and Marlon clearly AIN'T convincing as White Chicks (Chevy Chase's dressing up in the Fletch movies is what REAL disguises are all about). Come on! A blind, numb, deaf, dumb, stinking, French, ginger midget could tell these are just Black Guys in G-strings.

And there's another thing; I know I said this isn't racist at all, but if we were to make a film in which white guys dress up in stereotypical bling bling, afros, ghetto threads and jive talk as Black Chix it would be picketed, lynch-mobbed and rioted out of cinemas immediately. But I guess that's a double-standard we have to live with.

Keen(en)eyed viewers will spot Eddie Velez (that's Frankie "Dishpan" Santana, from the last season of The A-Team, folks!) as a fellow, non-transvestite FBI agent.