“Gigli” (2003)

Gigli

Grade: F

The worst thing about Gigli — and there’s a hell of a lot to choose from in that regard — is how boring it is. It isn’t a fascinating failure like The Room. It isn’t a memorable debacle like Trolls 2. It isn’t even a hilarious catastrophe like the Twilight series. No, Gigli belongs in a wretched category all its own: an overlong, self-serious, forgettable fuck-up that lacks all the qualities we cherish in other “worst film ever” contenders. A few more notes on Gigli:

Directing:

Surely Gigli couldn’t be so bad that it got Martin Brest, director of semi-acclaimed films like Beverly Hills Cop, Midnight Run and Scent of a Woman, kicked out of Hollywood? Well, yes, Gigli is that bad, and that’s exactly what happened, but not because of a lack of talent on Brest’s part. From a purely technical standpoint, Gigli is competent: the camera moves where it’s supposed to move, and there aren’t any specific shots or sequences that defy the laws of cinema. It’s just…Gigli has no purpose, no meaning, no clue what its creator is even trying to do. The film is the apogee of indifference — milquetoast in the form of a DVD.

Acting:

Every performance in Gigli is terrible, and every character is miscast — a perfect storm of confusion. For instance, if Ben Affleck’s character (whose last name is Gigli, though that’s only mentioned once) is supposed to be a smooth-talking criminal, then why is he dumber and more offensive than Justin Bartha’s character? If Jennifer Lopez’s character is supposed to be a Dyke-o-saurus Rex (Gigli’s words, not mine), then why does she talk about penis so much? If Justin Bartha’s character is supposed to be reminiscent of Rain Man, then why does he go full retard? If Al Pacino and Christopher Walken are supposed to be gloriously over-the-top, then why are their monologues so tedious? Then again, the worst crime that the actors commit is being visibly disinterested in the material, which is ultimately why Brest was the one to blame…and the one who had to pay the price.

Writing:

In style and subject matter, Gigli is intended to be a cross between Pulp Fiction, Chasing Amy and Rain Man. At its core, the movie is a rom-com about a dumb hunk successfully converting a lesbian to the first church of cock. But the dialogue isn’t funny, only offensive, and the chemistry isn’t cute, it’s borderline predatory. Combine that with the tacked-on mob story and the tacked-on mentally disabled character, both of which Brest thinks will induce excitement in the viewer, and you have a movie that pleases no one and insults everyone, a remarkably ignorant and inconsiderate worldview that boils down to “crime is cool” and “portrayals of handicaps win Oscars.”

Music:

It’s not that John Powell’s orchestral score is bad, necessarily; it’s that the soundtrack is used at the most inappropriate times. For most of the movie, there is no music. And then all of a sudden, when Justin Bartha says, “It’s where the sex is” (because the greatest tragedy of all, of course, is that disabled men can’t have sex), the sappy strings well up in the background as if this is the most profound observation in the history of the world.

Ending (SPOILERS):

The second greatest tragedy, as Gigli would have you believe, is that straight men can’t have sex with lesbians. A Marty Brest happily-ever-after: Justin Bartha goes to the set of Baywatch, and Affleck and Lopez become soulmates. And who cares about the mobster storyline, that was all dropped without explanation 20 minutes earlier, so let’s bask in the sun and win an Academy Award or two. Wait a sec, what do you mean that’s not how the industry works? What do you mean Brest has to be thrown in the gulag now?

“Gobble, gobble.” — Rikki

Why Gigli gets an F:

Gigli is one of the worst movies ever made, but it is also the most competent worst movie ever made, which paradoxically makes it even more terrible. If that sentence is dumber than Gigli itself, here’s another criticism that’s easier to understand: Gigli is the most boring movie ever made.

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