Housesitter

Steve Martin and Goldie Hawn can make just about anything watchable. Case in point, Housesitter, not a terrible movie, but not one that will get a lot of play in clips highlighting the best of their careers either. It makes for decent viewing on a lazy Sunday afternoon when you can’t decide what else to watch on Netflix and you want something that requires little to no effort to half-watching.

If that sounds like faint praise, well, it is. Martin and Hawn have an appealing chemistry together and can make individual moments sing beautifully. It’s a pity a better vehicle for the duo was never found. Ah well, at least they can zip back and forth with each other with great ease and dexterity, rolling with the verbal punches and throwing themselves into the physical comedy bits. It’s the script that lets them down.

A screwball comedy that isn’t very screwball zany or madcap, Housesitter sees two characters engage in a tenuous truce to try and get what the other one wants, building lie upon lie for self-preservation and as personal attacks until the truth becomes muddled and their true love shines through in the end. The supporting characters are tasked with acting and playing dumb to a degree that is uncharitable for the actors involved, and much of it lands with a more amused shrug than a comedic outburst. Blame Frank Oz’s sluggish direction. Blame the script from Brian Grazer and Mark Stein which starts off well enough but ends in a rushed and unsatisfactory manner, throwing in one last curveball before the fade out. But mostly, don’t expect much from it and you’ll have a mildly amusing time.