..Gary Dretzka
..Noah Forrest
..Leonard Klady
..R.J. Matson
..David Poland
..Douglas Pratt
..Ray Pride
..Kim Voynar
..Michael Wilmington

Tropic Thunder
Directed by Ben Stiller

Deep in the jungles of dark humor resides the soul of Tropic Thunder. The odyssey of the making, unmaking and remaking of a guerrilla war movie is a savage commentary on the very industry that enabled its very existence. In this take no prisoners environment there's considerable collateral damage. It strafes a wide range of societal sacred cows with a glee and abandon one dearly wants to embrace wholeheartedly.

But this scatter gun approach is only fitfully successful. At times the film scores a direct hit with riotous laughter ensuing. Still the kitchen sink approach is rife with sophomoric humor that's bewildering and the odd bits of revelation that position it as more than movie navel gazing evoke an unsettling psycho drama when psycho comedy was the intention.

The premise itself is pure high concept. The debut feature of an acclaimed stage director is in crisis. Based upon the memoir of a Vietnam War vet and filmed where it happened (in fact it was shot in Hawaii) its star cast is in disarray; the script is unfocused and Ptomaine Express was hired to do the catering.

The grizzled writer of the source material - John "Four Leaf" Taybeck (Nick Nolte) - grunts out that the only way to turn the situation around is to put the cast into real jeopardy. The desperate filmmaker takes the bait and parachutes the make believe five-man squad deeper into the jungle with plans to capture the action with remotely placed cameras and strategically placed booby-trapped pyrotechnics.

The switcheroo is that the phony war collides with reality. Local drug runners mistake the play soldiers for American DEA agents and their hunt is singularly devoid of good will.

Director-star-co-writer Ben Stiller appears most intrigued by the collisions between different realms. His lead actor, the highly lauded Australian thespian Kirk Lazarus (Robert Downey Jr.), is likely slumming. Still he's doing his best to obfuscate the big payday; undergoing pigmentation treatments to portray an African American platoon leader and staying in character 24/7 much to the chagrin of co-star Alpa Chino (Brandon Jackson), a hip hop entrepreneur.

The award for conceit and delusion however goes to Tugg Speedman (Stiller) who's so self-absorbed he refuses to see anything that doesn't correspond to the movie script. Speedman insists the severed head of the film's director (who steps on a land mine) is a prop and that the Vietnamese narco soldiers are merely aggressive extras.

The dilemma of Tropic Thunder is another collision. It's the disconnect between "think" funny and visceral humor. The intentional blurring between real and faked illusion is often too smart for the room. And the depiction of movie execs and agents calling the shots from the safety of Beverly Hills offices is so keenly observed one's more apt to applaud than laugh.

The bedrock of the film ultimately seems to be pain and while that's apt to elicit humor and laughs it also tends to have an acrid aftertaste. Stiller has a low tolerance for the posturing of movie making (at every level) but stops short of the sort of tiresome whining one associates with wealthy, pampered performers. Nonetheless he and the film remain conflicted and try as it may Tropic Thunder does not provide catharsis.

The film itself has come under harsh scrutiny from groups representing the mentally challenged, minorities and family values. Some of the criticism has validity but one shudders at the prospect of muzzling filmmakers in the name of political correctness. It's impossible to make a great p.c. comedy - it's antithetical to what makes us laugh and would neuter most of what's truly laudable about Tropic Thunder.

- Leonard Klady