Divine intervention

Evan Baxter (Steve Carell), left, has a talk with God (Morgan Freeman) in the film Evan Almighty. (Universal Studios)

Four years later, I’m baffled that a “comedy” as formidably humourless as Tom Shadyac’s Bruce Almighty (2003) could have grossed more than $240 million US worldwide. The movie stars Jim Carrey as Bruce Nolan, a disgruntled Buffalo TV reporter. When a colleague named Evan Baxter (Steve Carell) gets the anchor position Bruce has been not-so-secretly coveting, Bruce blames God for his misfortune. Evidently tired of being a scapegoat, God appears to Bruce — in the form of a droning, white-suited Morgan Freeman — and says, Hey, if you think I’m doing such a lousy job, why don’t you play Me?

And so, Bruce becomes omnipotent. Bruce installs himself as anchor. Bruce realizes he’s been a selfish prat. Bruce hands the reins back to Jehovah. God rolls the Almighty credits.

Given its shiftless writing and Jim Carrey’s most anodyne performance to date, one can only assume it was the premise that resonated with people. Interactions with God are a long-standing comic gambit — think of the Greg Kinnear film Dear God, Kevin Smith’s Dogma or the Oh God! franchise starring George Burns. Whether or not you believe in Him, it’s a neat way to explore the notion of Free Will — or more specifically, our own culpability for our earthly lot.

Shadyac revisits this profitable concept in Evan Almighty, which swaps a once-hip comic (Carrey) for a still-hip one (Steve Carell). But before the film can properly begin, Shadyac must iron out the back story. In the opening five minutes, we’re asked to accept that since the last film, Carell’s character has gone from being a smarmy, doltish news anchor to a crusading U.S. congressman. Before you can yell “Continuity error!” Evan, his wife (Lauren Graham of The Gilmore Girls) and their three sons have shuffled out of Buffalo to live in a shiny new McMansion in a Virginia suburb called Prestige Crest. Almost immediately, the new congressman is asked to co-sponsor a bill with Congressman Long (John Goodman) that would designate some previously public land for private use, thus allowing developers to build more sterile suburbs.

While Evan is eager to play along, he is besieged by weird portents. First, it’s the inexplicable delivery of a box of tools; then, unwanted shipments of lumber. Finally, God appears. Speaking in an elliptical way — as only He can — God commands Evan to build an ark to weather an upcoming flood. Evan is understandably dubious about the plan. That is, until he is stalked by a variety of animal species — birds, skunks, tarantulas, bears, deer, you name it — and involuntarily grows a flowing white beard.

I don’t think I’m the only one to have misgivings about where such a premise might lead. After all, the Great Flood in the original Old Testament parable was God’s way of washing away Earth’s sinners and starting the human race anew — nothin’ funny about that. Freeman’s God is teed off, but more sanguine than his biblical counterpart. In one montage, he shows Evan a breathtaking, verdant valley, which turns out to be the land near Evan’s home before it was razed to become Prestige Crest. The environmental message gives the film a greater heft than its predecessor, which asked us (unsuccessfully) to sympathize with one petty, self-absorbed fool. In Evan Almighty, the stakes are far greater. And they should be: The thing cost $175 million US to make.

Carell’s performance consists of a few incredulous stares, one or two shrieking fits and an ingratiating little happy-dance he does when things go Evan’s way. Really, any mildly jokey actor could have played Evan — Carell just happens to be the high-paid buffoon du jour. While the film squanders Carell’s talents, it deserves credit for recognizing its true audience: tweens. If Bruce Almighty was too innocuous to pass as an urban comedy, Evan Almighty fully embraces its squareness. With his copy of Ark-building for Dummies in hand, Evan treats us to all sorts of corny pratfalls — accidentally hammering his thumb, falling off a skid of lumber and other construction-site indignities. Meanwhile, the cute little beasties look on with bemusement.

When viewed as a children’s picture, Evan Almighty improves considerably. But given its wholesome script and animal-heavy cast, I wonder whether the producers could have spared themselves $100 million by turning it into a cartoon.

Evan Almighty opens June 22 across Canada.

Andre Mayer writes about the arts for CBC.ca.

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