The only "fatboy" in "Run Fatboy Run" is the landlord character, Mr. Ghoshdashtidar, but the title does not refer to him; it refers to his tenant, Dennis, who frequently locks himself out -- and that joke, like every joke in this formulaic, unfunny and forgettable romantic comedy, becomes stale the first time it's rolled out. But just in case you didn't get it, you'll experience it again later.
David Schwimmer makes his feature film directorial debut with this movie, which originally was set in New York, but then the project was relocated to London, where Simon Pegg ("Hot Fuzz," "Shaun of the Dead") got his hands on the script. You'd think this would be the point at which a run-of-the-mill rom-com might at least turn into something a bit offbeat. Not so. The only thing offbeat is that the couple at the center of the story -- Dennis (Pegg) and Libby (Thandie Newton in a throwaway role) -- are not nearly in the same league.
The opening scene puts us at Dennis and Libby's wedding. She's in late-term pregnancy; he's having last-minute jitters, so much so that he literally runs away while Libby and the rest of the wedding party watch in dumbfounded disbelief.
Five years later, Dennis is living in a basement flat and working a dead-end security job at a women's clothing store. Libby is still single, raising their son, Jake, and supporting them by working in her own bakery -- the locale for the requisite prolonged conversation in front of strangers where he tries to convince her of his worthiness. Wouldn't you know it, just as Dennis figures out he really does want to be with Libby, she's got herself another boyfriend -- a rich, handsome, confident, athletic American who likes to run marathons for charity. Naturally, Dennis decides the way back into Libby's heart is to complete a task ("You've never finished anything in your entire life!" she laments).
Hey, why not run a marathon, too, one that's three weeks away? This so-crazy-it's-crazy idea sets Dennis up to be one-upped and humiliated by the boyfriend, Whit (Hank Azaria), at every turn. Whit, of course, is cordial, even helpful. Too good to be true? Of course!
And, as with every sports-related film with an "amateur/loser/underdog comes from behind to win" theme, we get the training montage. See Dennis run (in canvas deck shoes, tighter-than-tight swim trunks and a David Bowie T-shirt), smoke, run some more, run farther, lift weights, quit smoking, run up stairs and finally, the defining moment: look down on the city, out of breath but full of accomplishment, a la Rocky Balboa.
For every nice moment -- there are a few featuring Dennis interacting with his son -- there are twice as many cliche-riddled scenes and three times as many sight gags and disgusting, didn't-need-to-see-that moments. Let's just say that watching Whit slap powder on his genitals while having a locker-room conversation was preferable to witnessing Dennis' buddy Gordon (Dylan Moran) pop a silver dollar-size blister on Dennis' foot. Ew and double-ew.
Schwimmer has done some fine directing work at Chicago's Lookingglass Theatre, a company known for its innovative interpretations of classics, among other things, so you'd think he'd have a better eye for good material and hold out for something more substantial than a third-rate romantic comedy for his feature directing debut. Even "Friends," the TV sitcom for which Schwimmer is best known, was smarter than "Run Fatboy Run."
One thing Schwimmer does do right is keep the story moving swiftly. You're in, you're out, no harm done -- unless you want that hour and a half back.
