Misunderstood Masterpieces: On The Line
Posted by Will Helm on 12.20.2005
…or, Yet Another Chapter in the Saga of Musicians who Want to Be Actors
Mariah Carey. “Weird Al” Yankovic. The Spice Girls. Britney Spears. Mandy Moore. Most of the cast of You Got Served. What do they all have in common?
They’ve all been featured in this very column and, most significantly, they’re all musicians masquerading as actors. With the possible exceptions of Yankovic – who is just a wacky entertainer and Renaissance man – and Moore – who definitely has shown a good deal of onscreen charisma and talent, the rest of these deluded souls are prime examples of people who should not be in movies. Of course, as we all probably know, the concept of casting a musician – or someone known primarily as a musician – in a film is not new; from the Rat Pack films to the Beatles films, musicians and cinema have had a fairly cordial relationship. The one difference between those earlier examples and the present day is that most of the time the musician/actors came across well in the film. Nowadays, not so much.
Case in point, today’s study: 2001’s romantic comedy On the Line. This particular production features two members of the late-‘90s pop-culture phenomenon we once knew as N’Sync, specifically lazy-eyed prettyboy Lance Bass and overweight goofball Joey Fatone. Released at the tail-end of N’Sync’s reign on the pop charts – or even after they had fallen out of favor – On the Line – presumably – sought to expand and extend N’Sync’s powers into the realm of cinema, only – in this case – two at a time. Guess what? It really didn’t work. The film was an unbelievable bomb, grossing only a little more than 40% of its budget! I suppose the world just wasn’t ready for the cinematic juggernaut that is N’Sync . . . or it was just a very bad film. Of course, you know just what it’s time for whenever those words are uttered . . . I mean “typed.”
In lovely Chicago, some terrible band sings a little ditty from The Spin Doctors to a high school-aged audience; either this is some sort of ironic commentary on pop music or we’re in the midst of a flashback. Ah, I see . . . it’s a flashback, as the year is 1994. Remember 1994? I sure don’t. That’s what a few years in college do to you. Anyway, perhaps hilariously – if I had an infantile sense of humor – the band is made up of, primarily, lazy-eyed Lance Bass as the frontman and Joey Fatone as the guitarist. Someone should mark this down: this is the closest the members of N’Sync have ever been to actual real musical instruments. Lazy-eyed Lance – or, in movie-realm, his alter ego, Kevin – conspires to seduce some chick with a serenade from the stage, but he proceeds to have a crippling bout of stage fright and then everyone laughs at him. Well, that’s a little harsh; Carrie White’s mom would be proud.
Sometime later – specifically, seven years later – Joey Fatone – or, as he’d like to be known in this film, “Rod” – mocks Kevin’s horrible stage presence while the two of them ride a train together. After Rod finishes his mocking, some little kid psychoanalyzes Kevin for no particular reason and then he shows his awesome pimp powers by hitting on an adult chick. You know, I’d be happier if they just made the movie about the kid, honestly. Anyway, Kevin heads over to his office – while wearing the ultra-trendy leather sport coat – and, once there, he shows that we should like him because he’s endearingly clumsy. Of course, there are those that don’t like him, in particular cranky mail clerk Jerry Stiller! Then again, maybe Jerry is just suffering from a bout of dementia at this point, as he also carries a mysterious baseball with him and sweet talks a cartoony copier in the mailroom. I think someone’s been freebasing toner.
Kevin, not willing to partake in a healthy dose of Xerox fumes, retires to his finely appointed cubicle, where he is visited by his health-obsessed boss, Dave Foley! It’s too bad Phil Gordon isn’t second-in-command of the company, though. Anyway, Dave has a little prize for Kevin as it seems that Reebok has deemed their advertising agency worthy of an account . . . if they can prove themselves. Well, I’ll give this movie one thing: that’s certainly the most logical opportunity for product placement I’ve ever seen. Dave, seeing big things in Kevin, assigns him to the pitch team, which is oddly comprised of Kevin and some sassy chick (Tamala Jones). While Kevin creatively brainstorms, the sassy chick just sits there and sasses at Kevin, since he’s young, imaginative, and subordinate. You know, it’s a wonder they don’t end up together by the end of the film . . . but perhaps I’ve said too much.
On the train home from work, Kevin, perhaps unaware of his surroundings, listens to Al Green . . . and he sings along, frightening most of the other passengers. Of course, there is, conveniently, one passenger who doesn’t think that Kevin is crazy and, even more conveniently, this passenger just happens to be a HOT CHICK (Emmanuelle Chriqui). Perhaps seeing a certain lovability in Kevin’s madness, the HOT CHICK breaks the ice between them with a Temptations reference that probably went over the heads of most of the film’s intended audience. I mean, I’ll give the movie some credit for acknowledging my favorite Temptations song (“Can’t Get Next to You,” in case you’re wondering) but that was released in 1969 . . . more than thirty years before On the Line. If any of the audience was even half that age, that’d be impressive.
After my little editorial regarding musical relevance concludes, the HOT CHICK joins Kevin on the subway and she reveals that, supposedly, Al Green just happens to be having a concert in Chicago . . . later in the movie. Hmm . . . what’s the likelihood that this will be the film’s climax? It’s just a hunch. Through some helpful exposition, we discover that the HOT CHICK isn’t merely just hot, but she’s also quite intelligent as she’s a graduate student of archaeology and, through her awesome powers of observation, she discerns that Kevin is an advertising agent. Then, perhaps just to remind us of more products we can buy after leaving the theater showing On the Line, Kevin and the HOT CHICK bond over advertising jingles and brand names. Oh, how romantic. Then again, perhaps it is, as Kevin and the HOT CHICK later segue to famous – and infamous – Chicago Cubs moments, allowing Kevin to get “sensitive.”
After a seeming eternity on the train, Kevin and the HOT CHICK get off together – disembark, you perverts – and he starts asking her weird questions. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have the gumption to ask her if she likes it in the pooper . . . but I don’t think that would have bothered the HOT CHICK, as she gracefully handles Kevin’s bizarre interrogation and then she makes a paper airplane in about two seconds and throws it into some guy’s hair for no particular reason. OK, supposedly her father is a pilot, so that’s why she’s obsessed with paper airplanes. Whatever, movie. Can you say “specious”? After dropping her paper airplane in some white guy’s afro, the HOT CHICK and Kevin – strangely – then bond over the fact that they can both name all the U.S. Presidents in order. Wow. Is that something you really want to brag about? And, perhaps ironically, does it matter that Emmanuelle Chriqui is Canadian and, therefore, really shouldn’t care about the Presidents of the United States? Anyway, after listing all of the Chief Executives, the HOT CHICK has to take her leave to another train so Kevin, afflicted once more with his stage fright, lets her leave without learning her name or phone number. Although I would have loved it if he asked her for her number and she responded 1-900-MIX-A-LOT. Well, we already know that Kevin probably has some very nasty thoughts.
Later, at a neighborhood bar, Rod the rocker sings Def Leppard while Kevin sits and chills with some lame friends of his . . . who were also the members of the band from the very beginning of the film! Rod, not content with pouring sugar all over himself, ends his performance and then freaks out because his band sucks. Rod joins his buddies at the table, where they reminisce and chat about some other guy who’s now a writer for some fictional Chicago newspaper. After the guys joke around for a bit, Kevin reveals, apprehensively, that he’s obsessed with the HOT CHICK; after his heartfelt confession, Rod, helpfully, takes the stage and dedicates a song parody to Kevin and his terrible luck with women. Now, while some people might find this funny, am I the only one who thinks it’s suspicious that Rod is, essentially, serenading Kevin? Maybe that’s his problem: he’s been interested in the wrong gender.
While Kevin and his lamest friend – a wannabe rapper named Eric (GQ . . . no, really) – plot to find the HOT CHICK, the very same HOT CHICK returns home to wherever she’s from and she tells her bestest friend in the whole world that she found a nice apartment in Chicago but, instead of moving there to be with her longtime boyfriend, she’s looking to break out on her own. Why? Well, it seems that she doesn’t feel anything for her boyfriend anymore, mainly because she met Kevin! OK, ladies. I have to take you all to task for this one. I know that probably some of you are saying “Oh how romantic” or “That’s so sweet” and I just have one thing to tell you: it’s not. Seriously, if the HOT CHICK isn’t feeling anything for her boyfriend anymore, why doesn’t she just end the relationship? It really doesn’t reflect well on her character that she’s just stringing her boyfriend along until something better – in this case Kevin – comes along. If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times: bitches be crazy. Of course, they’ll probably make the HOT CHICK seem a little more sympathetic by having her boyfriend be a raging prick, but you can’t fool me. Nope.
Back at Kevin’s place of employment, Dave Foley presents the Reebok pitch to a multicultural selection of executives. The executives, much to Foley’s chagrin, pooh-pooh the first proposal, so the sassy chick acts fast and presents Kevin’s original idea as her own, which the executives like much better. Well, I guess that was the Samuel Alito to the original pitch’s Harriet Meiers. After the meeting, Kevin, perhaps plotting a bloody revenge against his detractors, talks to himself in the copy room . . . and a musical montage breaks out as Kevin, with no real basis whatsoever, makes scores of flyers looking for the HOT CHICK. After the flyers cover the streets, the fictional Chicago newspaper takes note and some editor guy wants to know about Kevin and his quest, so he assigns the reporter the friends were talking about earlier (Dan Montgomery) to the story. Of course, the writer has other ideas as, back in high school, Kevin sort-of stole a chick from him (in reality the guy was a loser and Kevin was just lucky . . . although I thought we established that Kevin was a loser in high school as well . . . continuity, movie!) so the writer wants REVENGE! Like you expected anything less?
Later that day, Kevin returns to his apartment, where he’s surrounded by his lame friends who are all amazed when some chick actually calls looking for Kevin! Perhaps Kevin’s ingenious gambit worked, as he makes a date with the chick for lunch. Meanwhile, at lunch somewhere else, the HOT CHICK accompanies her American Psycho raging prick boyfriend. See? What did I tell you earlier? Elsewhere, Kevin meets with the ersatz chick, who’s some sort of weird hippie who had a vibe that she had a connection with Kevin. I bet she saw an omen in her bongwater. At the fancy restaurant, the HOT CHICK’s raging prick boyfriend puts down her interests in archaeology and desire to have a life of her own; that’s right, Patrick Bateman: barefoot, pregnant, and chopped up in your closet is just how to keep a woman. Back at the other restaurant, the hippie chick slaps Kevin around and then freaks out over a plate of pork. Yep. Meanwhile, the HOT CHICK is upset with Captain Psycho, so he pulls a trump card and bribes her with Al Green tickets so she’ll shut up. I hope it’s a good concert, because I have the feeling she’ll be dead not long after it.
The next day, Rod, for no reason in particular, takes a shower at Kevin’s apartment and disgusts his buddies by farting uncontrollably. While Rod flatulates to his own amusement, the movie veers into a bizarro world where Richie Sambora is a solo rock star and is worshipped like a god on MTV’s TRL. Hmm . . . now I have to check and see whether or not Richie was an executive producer of the film, because that all seems awfully suspicious. OK, he wasn’t . . . but fifteen other people had a hand in producing the film. Perhaps that’s a new record? Someone call the Guinness people . . . mainly because I need a drink. Rod, still clad in a towel while watching TRL voices his displeasure at seeing Richie Sambora worshipped so, mainly because he considers himself a legit musician while Richie is a sell-out. Oh no . . . does that mean that Rod is actually an indie emo snob? I bet he is.
Meanwhile, returning to another plotline of the movie, the writer calls the apartment as he wants to interview Kevin about his little obsession . . . and perhaps for some REVENGE as well. Kevin, wisely, doesn’t want to go along with it, but his lame friends come together to convince him otherwise. Something tells me this is like a bunch of soldiers telling the naïve private to jump on the mine for them; it’s yet another hunch. Perhaps my misgivings are unwarranted though as, after the article is printed, Kevin’s story becomes big news in the Windy City and, perhaps more interestingly, all the women at work gossip about him as he walks by. OK, if he doesn’t get any nookie from this, I’d be very shocked. Stiller, of course, mocks Kevin and Foley laughs at him . . . and then he offers some advice cribbed from Scarface. Dammit . . . and I so wanted him to just yell out that “Foley-mania is runnin’ wild!” Foley’s laughter, however, is ill-timed as he learns, much to his amazement, that the Reebok people are pleased to have a creative stalker on board with the project and they back Kevin and his obsession.
Later, at a Cubs game, Kevin hides out of embarrassment while his lame friends try to get him some lovin’; his friends’ attempts unsuccessful, Kevin then resigns himself to talking with Rod while Eric stands by and gets hit in the junk with a Sammy Sosa foul ball. Ah, the hilarity that is genital mutilation. That one’s for the ladies, I’m sure. Meanwhile, the writer types up his follow-up to the original article about Kevin and, all the while, he vows more REVENGE! Well, he’s been so successful so far; perhaps adding insult to ineptitude, a co-worker of the writer’s confesses that she thinks that Kevin is “sweet.” How cute. Anyway, over the next few days and/or weeks, Kevin becomes a successful advertising executive and, sadly, he also goes on a bunch of bad dates. Stiller, as always, keeps mocking him; hmm . . . maybe Kevin’s the one who’s headed to a date with homicide by the end of this film. The first one to go: Stiller. Or maybe not, as the sassy chick also makes known her displeasure with Kevin’s mere existence. Oh yeah . . . she’s next.
On some day after all of this, Kevin and the lame friends play baseball and barbecue in the park. Well, they actually barbecue . . . they don’t “play” barbecue. That’d just be weird. The lame friends, who really need to get out more, propose a “dating ring” to handle some of Kevin’s overflow but Kevin, wisely, is apprehensive as he’s just a sensitive guy. Back at the office, Foley thinks that Kevin needs some ginko biloba, mainly because the sassy chick ratted him out to the boss. While Kevin argues with Foley, Kevin’s lamest friend, Eric, calls up once more proposing the “dating ring” and, through a wacky miscommunication, Kevin unwittingly agrees to go along with his friends’ plans. Dum-dum-DUM!
That evening, at the Al Green concert, Al croons on . . . wait a second! The movie can’t be over already! Although not that I’d complain, mind you. Usually films put these big musical numbers at the end, as a backdrop for a happy resolution. It saddens me to consider that On the Line actually has the audacity to use Al Green, the Reverend of Love, as a PLOT DEVICE! Have you no propriety, movie? This is an ordained minister you’re putting down here. Anyway, it must be a plot device as Kevin and his lamest friend Eric are there in the audience and, while Eric takes in the scene, Kevin retires to the bar where he believes he spies the HOT CHICK, but he’s just mistaken. Meanwhile, in another room of the concert hall, the HOT CHICK is there, but she’s arguing on her cell phone with her serial killer boyfriend who just can’t make it to the show that night because of a “meeting.” We all know he’s lying, though . . . he’s actually returning some videotapes. Kevin and Eric, just because, get thrown out of the show because Eric snuck them in, which is kind of a pointless plot point . . . if that makes any sense.
Once more on the train, Kevin sees the HOT CHICK again, but it turns out that it’s all a dream. Over at the apartment, Kevin enters to find, much to his chagrin, his lame friends brokering dates in his name! Well, I’d say that’s false advertising. Kevin, rightly, freaks out . . . until the writer calls again because the writer’s assistant or girlfriend or whatever is into the whole story. While the vaguely defined girlfriend opines for romance, the writer guy, fueled by the fires of REVENGE, speaks out against the very concept of love. The somewhat nebulous girlfriend, angered by the writer’s lack of emotion – maybe he should write for a science journal – exits, stage right. Well, actually out the back door, but I so wanted an opportunity to say “Snagglepuss would be proud.” So, with that, Snagglepuss would be proud.
Finally, after about an hour or so of torture, the HOT CHICK reads the paper and learns of Kevin’s mad quest for her affection. Feeling the same for Kevin – and, I suppose, having kind-of, sort-of dumped her potential murderer – she calls the Kevin hotline and, unwittingly, makes a date with Eric, the lamest friend. This, of course, leads to a wacky musical montage where all of the lame friends prepare for their dates and, of course, hilarity ensues on said dates. Eric, the lamest friend, has his date with the HOT CHICK, who is quite put out and confused by his nefarious – and desperate – ruse. Eric, perhaps possessing half a brain in his lame noggin, figures out that the HOT CHICK he’s supposed to have his date with actually IS the famed HOT CHICK so he apologizes and attempts to explain himself . . . but she leaves anyway. Good for her; friends like that never reflect well on the actual guy.
Later that evening, the writer guy’s mysterious significant other returns back to their apartment seriously injured. Well, comically injured at least. It seems that she had a little date with one of the lame friends and then, for no particular reason other than she might too be actually evil – and just romantic – she reveals the friends’ little scheme to the writer. Ah-ha! REVENGE! The writer, of course, prints his next column exposing the subterfuge – unbeknownst to Kevin – and our hero becomes a laughingstock at work . . . and he’s also demoted down to the mailroom. Ouch. Luckily for Kevin, he has the once mocking Stiller there to comfort him. Wow . . . from a HOT CHICK to Jerry Stiller; that’s like a bizarre Freudian dream.
Meanwhile, at the apartment, the lame friends chat about their respective dates the night before. It turns out, according to Rod, that he was the one that unintentionally pummeled the writer’s girlfriend when he kicked her in the face after serenading her. Because chicks dig that. After Rod finishes his hilarious little tale of intergender violence, Eric, the lamest friend, confesses to his compatriots that he had a date with the actual HOT CHICK! After this shocking revelation, we cut back to the office, where the sassy chick fights with the copier; instead of just letting her suffer for her backstabbing, Kevin elects to win some points back and sweet talks the copier back into operation for her. OK . . . if they end up together, then this movie is officially terrible. After work, Kevin once more sees the HOT CHICK at the train station and he swoops to catch up with her. Unfortunately for him, once he catches up to her, she pulls out a paper featuring the writer’s scathing column and then she rides off into the sunset, probably into the arms of her sinister ex-boyfriend, and – therefore – her doom. Oh well.
That weekend, Kevin and Eric, the lamest friend, play a bit of baseball in the park together – uh-oh, this won’t be good – and Eric, the lamest friend, finally tells Kevin of his discovery of the HOT CHICK! Kevin, perhaps finally at the end of his wits, jumps to action and bludgeons his buddy! Boy-band rage! Boy-band rage! Meanwhile, Rod and his terrible band rehearse while Kevin drowns his sorrows at the bar. Rod, being equally sensitive as Kevin, tries to apologize to his friend and confesses that he believes in love because he believes in music and his admires Kevin for his devotion to the HOT CHICK and he also tells Kevin that he’s his inspiration. Umm . . . OK. That’s a little awkward.
Elsewhere, the HOT CHICK walks the streets – ah, so her boyfriend has forced her into a life of prostitution, then – while, simultaneously, Kevin stalks the pavement as well. Now isn’t that so wonderfully coincidental? Perhaps to hammer home the point that our two star-crossed lovers are destined for each other – and perhaps a date with an apothecary – the director ham-handedly fades them in and out of one another. Thank you for the visual representation, movie! Finally, Kevin, perhaps driven mad from his lack of love, gets depressed over the sight of paper airplanes. I think the dude needs some therapy . . . and he always did.
Back at the apartment or wherever – I never bothered to write down where – the lame friends argue over what to do to rectify Kevin’s situation, so they decide to atone for their mistakes. Seriously, it’s the least they could do. The lame friends, therefore, canvass the city in search of the HOT CHICK; unfortunately, there’s no sign of Leonard Nimoy to help them do it. But there is a musical montage, so I guess that’s good enough. Perhaps due to his status as the most penitent of the lame friends, Eric, the lamest friend, gives a heartfelt soliloquy about the nature of love while on a train and, after he concludes, the passengers applaud . . . and the HOT CHICK is there! But she doesn’t applaud for some reason. Odd.
At the office, Kevin is shocked to learn that Stiller is now in the hospital, pretty much due to being old and crotchety. That’ll finally catch up to you, you know. Kevin, perhaps looking to commit himself, journeys to see Stiller, his now ersatz guru. At the hospital, Stiller tells Kevin that, instead of love, the Cubs are his lifeforce – so Kevin should start to lust after Kerry Wood? – and he finally explains the origins of the mysterious baseball: it was an Ernie Banks homerun that he caught on the same day he met his future wife. OK, everybody now: “Awwwwww.” Perhaps seeing the Grim Reaper stalking the hallways in wait for him, Stiller passes on the not-so-mysterious baseball to Kevin like it’s some sort of magical relic. I think it’s just under the Shroud of Turin and the Holy Lance, honestly.
Back at work, Kevin suddenly gets promoted again, mainly because the sassy chick – who must not have any creative ability whatsoever – reveals that she stole her ideas from Kevin and Kevin, the witless dope that he is, thanks her even though she used him and hated him for most of the movie. Once more on the train – I guess the filmmakers really wanted to save money on sets and such – Kevin wistfully looks up at a billboard and then, instantaneously, he buys up a bunch of billboard space to apologize to the HOT CHICK – with money he doesn’t really seem to have.
The mysterious billboards have a date and time for Kevin and the HOT CHICK to meet, so of course it all becomes a media sensation as Kevin and a bunch of rubber-neckers wait for the HOT CHICK to arrive at the train station. Meanwhile, at the bar, while the lame friends watch television and wait patiently to find out if the whole plot of the movie finally pays off, Richie Sambora shows up and Rod, hypocritically, fawns over him. Richie, “solo rock star” that he is, somehow found out about Rod’s newfound talents and he wants to use him on his next tour. Oddly, the writer’s once-girlfriend is there and, now that Rod’s successful, she wants him instead. I’ll say it again, guys: bitches be crazy. Rod, now emboldened by his burgeoning stardom, takes the stage and serenades the crowd with . . . some wuss rock. Honestly, how could he go from Van Halen and Twisted Sister covers to this? It saddens me.
Anyway, at the train station, the HOT CHICK is late – she’s probably slowly dissolving in a bathtub full of acid – so Kevin and the crowd are saddened by the letdown. Of course, after a sufficiently suspenseful amount of time passes, Kevin is alerted to the HOT CHICK’s presence by an errant paper airplane, so he finds the HOT CHICK and then they make out and – unsurprisingly – there is much rejoicing. Finally, during the closing credits, Al Green performs a perfunctory closing number, only to be rudely interrupted by Justin and Chris of N’Sync goofing around as fey makeup artists behind the scenes. Seriously guys, have a little respect for the clergy! The nerve of some people.
When all is said and done, one word sums up On the Line perfectly: innocuous. Like many “romantic comedies” of its ilk, On the Line is just there, filled with clichés and predictable developments. While the presence of Joey Fatone is tolerable – he makes a decent comedic buffoon – Lance Bass is just horribly unbelievable as a romantic lead, mainly because he can’t do anything but be wishy-washy and milquetoast. Then again, there’s little to no room for him to elaborate on such a hackneyed character and plot, so it remains to be seen whether his bland persona is his fault or not. Hopefully he’ll do a few more film which I can study – and lampoon – for further reference. I’ll keep my fingers crossed.
Join me next week as I finish up the “they shouldn’t be in pictures” festival with a film featuring a manly man and a onetime competitor to the man that kicked off this month-long study. See you then!
