"The Rocker": It's only a rock 'n' roll movie, and we don't like it

Movie review |

"The Rocker" is an innocuous late-summer entry that barely rises above the level of sitcom alternative to Olympic-coverage overload. Its draw will probably be limited to those anticipating a "School of Rock" knockoff and devoted fans of the haphazardly appealing Rainn Wilson in his first starring role.

Wilson is best known as Dwight Schrute, sycophantic assistant (to the) regional manager on NBC's "The Office." He channels that character with type-cast lethargy as Robert "Fish" Fishman, a loserly schlub whose rock-drummer godhead dreams are shattered after his '80s heavy-metal hair band, Vesuvius, dumps him on the eve of their catapult to superstardom.

Festering with a 20-year grudge, Fish finally self-destructs when Vesuvius gets inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. At wits' end and living on the floor of his sister's cluttered attic, Fish reluctantly fills in playing a prom gig with his nephew's teen-angst band, A.D.D. After an implausible viral splash on YouTube sets the country abuzz for the depressive emo stylings of A.D.D., Fish goes off the delusional deep end to fulfill the long-denied destiny of his greatness.

Rehashing the comic skit territory of 40-year-old-man-as-little-boy, "The Rocker" is a series of lazy setups. The script is so deficient on the cleverness scale that even some of the gross-out gags outscore the conceptual premise. Part of the movie's conceit is that Fish doesn't understand that he's a joke to A.D.D.'s newfound fans. The bigger problem is that he's not enough of a joke to carry the movie on his own.

Wilson's not afraid to throw his pasty, jiggling fish flesh around like a lesser Jack Black, but Fish is too foolish a mentor in flaunting his musical passion. His shucking pales in comparison to the charisma and reverence a real rocker (like Black) would bring to another age group, be they actual musicians or just plain moviegoers.

The movie also stumbles by mocking the arena-rock posturing of Vesuvius and the bland modernity of A.D.D., never convincing us that either band could sway fans of any generation. A forced spiritual bond also fails between Fish and A.D.D.'s front-dude Curtis (Teddy Geiger), a moody ersatz Jonas Brother who mopes around in an effort to boost the teen-heartthrob factor. Intimations of a romance between Fish and Christina Applegate as Curtis' stage mother stretch the sphere of credulity even more.

A bright spot in the mediocrity is "SNL" regular Jason Sudeikis as a good-natured but slimy-as-a-slug recording executive. The fractured aphorisms of his bizarrely poetic showbiz lingo make a great case for snappy dialogue salvaging the most uninspired execution.

Ted Fry: tedfry@hotmail.com