Good Luck Chuck Review

By Chad Jarrah

When Good Luck Chuck was released in theaters, I shrugged it off as I would an episode of ABC’s Cavemen. When the Unrated version of Good Luck Chuck came out on DVD, I gave it as much thought as a runny nosed third grader would give to a Kleenex. But when the movie arrived on a roommate’s NetFlix account on the same day I was beginning my basement organization project, Chuck suddenly became a top priority.

With a stale bag of Sun Chips and a bowl of roommate-stolen Frosted Flakes, I sat, prepared to give the movie a chance, happy that it was affording me a break from my cluttered basement.

I watched as Chuck (Dane Cook) endured stabs to the back with dental equipment and shook my head. ‘We can do better than that,’ I thought. Next, electrocution by jumper cables; I sighed at this physical non-comedy and my now empty bag of Sun Chips. I began questioning the writers’ efforts as hot candle wax was clumsily dropped on the front of Chuck’s pants. ‘Why do all the great physical comedians like Chris Farley and John Ritter have to die?’ and ‘Why didn’t I buy more Sun Chips?’ Already, my asbestos riddled basement was looking like a delightful alternative.

Despite my annoyance with the corny gags, I watched on. After all, this wasn’t just a comedy; this movie also had a riveting and well-developed plotline that really makes you feel for the characters. It was very difficult not to empathize with poor Chuck as he gets hexed early on in the movie with a curse to never find true love. Yes, this sounds bad, but it gets much, much worse. Chuck has to cope with throngs of beautiful women throwing themselves at him, legs open, full and supple breasts exposed, who use him only for animal sex, knowing that the next man after Chuck will be their true soul-mate. Holding back the tears, I continued, for I knew this movie had even more to offer.

What, you say? I’m glad you asked. This film was also a platform for social change. As Chuck doubts his role in life and the difficult choices he must make, his lewd and portly friend offers these words of encouragement: ‘Was Martin Luther King Jr. taking advantage when he did that thing at that place?’ I think we all know the answer to that…

All in all, Good Luck Chuck was watchable, but nothing more than cinematic mediocrity at its finest. The high points for me personally included a Chinese guy singing karaoke (who strangely looked like my non-Chinese uncle), 10 sets of boobs - the last of which was a set of three - and Chuck tossing the salad of a stuffed penguin. Aside from that, I wish I had chosen to clean my basement.

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