Trial and Error

The New York Times
May 1997

LAWYER AND UNLAWYER IN PARTNERSHIP
By Janet Maslin

Nobody who hires Michael Richards to play a fight scene should ever have to worry about finding anyone to hit him. Mr. Richards, the rubber-limbed not-so-secret weapon of "Seinfeld," can do the job hilariously all by himself. One brief, priceless bit in "Trial and Error" finds him auditioning for a mobster's role and plopping all over the scenery, taking a merciless beating with no assailant in sight. He's supposed to be playing a ridiculously bad actor and he rises most avidly to that challenge.

Mr. Richards teams up wittily with Jeff Daniels in "Trial and Error," a comedy that's much fresher and sunnier that it has any real right to be. Jonathan Lynn, the director of "My Cousin Vinny," has essentially made the same film all over again in a different setting, but the formula still works. Once again a faker is forced to play a lawyer, this time in panoramically beautiful Nevada instead of the sleepy South. Mr. Lynn, a clever English film maker with a gently satirical eye for arch-Americana, knows just how to make the lone tumbleweed blow across the road in this cowboy town.

He also knows how lawyers' business suits look against the big sky as Charles Tuttle (Mr. Daniels) and Richard Rietti (Mr. Richards) descend on this desert locale. Charles is the actual lawyer and Richard the virtual one in a plot that requires them to change places. It seems that Charles was about to marry the boss's daughter (Alexandra Wentworth) and was sent to settle cone last case before the wedding. Ambushed by Richard, Charles becomes the guest of honor at a bachelor party. (the other guests are Richard's actor friends, heartily pretending to be buddies.) Anyway, Charles winds up too much the worse for wear to make himself presentable in court.

Richard to the rescue: hammiest foot forward, and remembering that he once appeared in "Inherit the Wind," he essays the role of Charles Tuttle for the benefit of a gimlet-eyed judge (Austin Pendelton). The case is a toughie, with Rip Torn as an old reprobate who has been sending $17.99 (plus shipping and handling) copper engravings of Abraham Lincoln to gullible buyers. They're pennies.

Happily unencumbered by legal training, Richard begins showing off his most lawyerly behavior. "Irene," he harks into a telephone, "send a muffin basket to Jacoby at Cedars-Sinai. "I don't know, twelve-hundred, fifteen-hundred dollars." In the courtroom, he states the obvious with panache. (Mrs. Sussex, uh, state your name please.") And thanks to Charles's flash cards, which say "hearsay" and "leading" and so on, he sends a hail of objections at the judge. He also feels the Western setting should mean dressing in fringed buckskin a la Gerry Spence. When Charles is eventually booted out of the courtroom, a Fisher-Price nursery monitor becomes an invaluable legal aid in trying the case.

Richard and Charles, played by Mr. Richards and Mr. Daniels as a wonderfully hapless comic team, also have their planning sessions. For instance, while eating a Twinkie Richard stumbles upon what he thinks is the perfect defense strategy, even after Charles patiently corrects him. "Our client has been systematically defrauding people for over 40 years, so it's not the same thing," Charles explains. " No one gets a sugar high and commits mail fraud."

The steadily amusing, sometimes exuberantly funny screenplay by Sara and Gregory Bernstein is best in the courtroom, but it also spends time on romantic subplots. Charles falls for the town's cutest (and perhaps only) waitress (Charlize Theron), who has a lot of midriff-baring outfits and a radiant smile. Free-spirited as only a movie character can be, she eventually shows him how to work out his aggressions by trying target practice on old toilets. "Stemware," says Charlize, pulling the trigger. "Flatware. Service for 12."

Mr. Richards's character also flirts with the district attorney (Jessica Steen), but the film's wholesome, conveniently available women are much too good to be true. "Trial and Error" works best when simply unleashing its who's-on-first madness on the legal system. Mr. Pendleton and Mr. Torn help bring this travesty of justices to zany heights in a couple of sustained testimony scenes. (Mr. Torn has a thrillingly shameless monologue.) As an expert witness who earnestly explains why Twinkies resemble cocaine. Dale Dye has a brief but scene stealing role.

"Trial and Error" is rated PG-13 (Parents strongly cautioned).