The Invention Of Lying – Martyn’s Review
To his credit, on the surface, fame and money do not seem to be so important to Ricky Gervais. He’s got both, but there’s an insouciance in his attitude towards celebrity and the media circus. It’s not his reason for getting out of bed in a morning – it’s the work. However discerning he is with regards to the endless courting by Hollywood, he has avoided taking the road-most-lucrative, in favour of concentrating on projects he cares about and occasional cameos in the likes of Night at the Museum and its sequel.
That’s all fine and well. The striking fact remains – Gervais is not a proper actor – he’s a comedian who co-created a seminal piece of British television. The offers, of course, flooded in nonetheless.
Quite often in his directorial feature debut The Invention of Lying (co-directed with Matthew Robinson) it is painful watching him grapple with the more serious aspects and demands of the script. Sure, it’s no real stretch playing an English, tubby, forty-something, nevertheless, he struggles repeatedly with certain scenes that need emotional depth and investment.
Wisely, he has surrounded himself with other comic talents; and several cameos hit the mark including Edward Norton, Stephen Merchant and best of all Barry from EastEnders (Shaun Williamson). Others crop up too: Tina Fey, Philip Seymour Hoffmann and Jason Bateman, to lesser effect.
The Invention of Lying is a brilliant concept on which to hang a comedy. For a country like America – ever so great at the art of bullshit – it probably tickled their funny bones more than most. Unfortunately, in its search for pathos and meaning, the film is very uneven.
Shaun Williamson and Stephen Merchant’s delightful cameo appearances, as a burglar and a home owner discussing the options he has after being caught red-handed poses the question, “what if this was set in Britain?” It could have been so much more. Instead, the American cast take a smug enthusiasm in their roles. Rob Lowe puts in a fun turn as a smarmy bastard and love rival, but others flounder (Jennifer Garner, in particular).
The opening, too, is guilty of that annoying American studio habit of using narration to explain key concepts of the film; as if the audience is too stupid to get it. The film, Gervais informs us, in that whiny comic voice he uses, takes place in an alternative universe where nobody lies and everybody tells the truth, often, in a blunt and stark fashion. This device could have been the lynchpin of a classic. Instead, nearly every sentence, becomes an announcement or pronouncement – some funny, some not.
Mark Bellison (Gervais) is a schmuck. A disaster in love and life in general. After a date goes wrong and he’s rejected, quickly followed by getting the axe at work – he begins to lie about everything, realising the rewards on offer. Early scenes are played for broad laughs including ripping off a casino and his informing a distraught woman she’s got to have sex with him because the world is about to end.
Once Bellison tells a whopper regarding “the man in the sky” (God) – he becomes a sort of modern day prophet and the script’s philosophical and theological pretensions come to the fore. At his dying mother’s bedside, it breaks his heart that she is about to go off into an eternity of nothingness and realises this (…very existentialist), so he invents a metaphysical cosmology to explain what is essentially heaven, hell and faith.
Whilst its pot-shots at organised religion offer many chuckles – the stand out laugh involves a post-fame, lazy Bellison growing his hair long and walking around in his bed sheets – striking an unintentional Jesus Christ pose. It is a brilliant visual gag.
In the end, love saves the day; for although Bellison has lots of money and fame, he still remains unlucky in the female department. His honesty eventually bags him the girl, in a cringe-worthy final scene.
At times brilliant and inventive, Ricky Gervais needs to stop acting like he’s reaching for lofty artistic heights and concentrate on doing what he does best: making us laugh. When he’s on form; his brand of observational comedy is infectious. When he’s trying to fool us he’s a genuine actor with range and depth; it’s lamentable.
Rating: 
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