Daddy issues
Sperm donation film has intriguing premise, but emotions fall flat
Where does the magic in a movie lie? It lies in the lie itself. Even if a movie is ripped from the headlines or based in some inconceivable truth, it still has to cast a cinematic spell.
Ken Scott’s Starbuck pulled us into its quirky comic trance in this country two years ago and grossed more than six million bucks at the boxoffice worldwide — which is no small feat for a little movie out of Quebec.
Hollywood noticed, and in turn, mounted an English remake starring Vince Vaughn as David Wozniak, a hapless meat delivery guy who sires 533 children via sperm donation.
The original was a magical experience in large part thanks to Patrick Huard’s perplexed goodness in the meaty lead. The well-rounded actor with a comic gift made David a lovable loser whose sweet heart allows us to maintain sympathy for his bizarre predicament.
But even with Scott behind the camera and the relatively bankable Vaughn looming before the lens, this version of Starbuck doesn’t have the same moxie.
It’s hard to finger exactly where the life drains from this otherwise competent undertaking, but it seems to be a matter of personal connection.
David is fully realized for the viewer, but he never feels fully engaged with the characters around him.
Part of that is the result of the plot itself. David, after all, has sired 533 children, and many of them have joined a class-action lawsuit to sue the clinic into disclosing their donor daddy’s identity.
When David is slammed with the facts surrounding his fatherhood, he has a latent desire to become a sort of fairy godfather to the children seeking him out, and he launches a surreptitious mission to make a positive difference in their lives.
But forming a meaningful connection with more than 100 people is practically impossible. David can’t win at this game, and neither can the movie.
There’s a moment as Scott chugs into the second act where it looks like the denouement will revolve around micro-relationships between David and the 142 kids in the legal folder, and you get a sinking feeling: We’ve only met four kids, and there are another 138 left to go. Not even Michael Landon would be able to fix 100 lives in 100 minutes. A putz like David doesn’t stand a chance, especially in light of his money obligations to the Mob, which are proving a distraction to his Hallmark card quest.
With so many wheels turning, it’s no wonder David’s not really available to the people he’s closest to: his brother, his father and his ex-girlfriend (Cobie Smulders). The juxtaposition between David’s “real family” and his biological brood gives Delivery Man a chance to explore the emotional gap between the two, and it’s here, in this sweaty fold of story, that Scott’s movie had the best chance at conjuring some magic because it’s all about love.
The children in search of the mysterious donor named Starbuck aren’t just looking to solve a genetic riddle, they’re looking to restore a different kind of double helix of the parent-child bond.
David is compelled to throw himself into the echoing existential chasm, but any sane person knows he’s doomed, which is where Scott’s seemingly formulaic comedy runs counter to the Hollywood norm — and hits an invisible wall.
The archetypal Tinseltown hero may be up against insurmountable odds, but in our hearts we have to believe his cause is noble and that he should win.
Delivery Man is desperately trying to retrace the same route as its predecessor, but even with the same road map and driver, this big-budget meat wagon never reaches the same destination.