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That's Mark's dilemma for the remainder of the movie, but The Invention of Lying has an even bigger problem: Its world of 'truth' is inconsistent. Apparently, telling the truth means saying whatever is on your mind, even when you don't need to. When Mark shows up for their first date, Anna admits that she was masturbating in the bathroom. When they proceed to a restaurant, the average-looking female maitre d' points to Anna and blurts, 'I'm threatened by you!' The waiter then discourses on how Anna is too good looking for Mark. And so on. These gags are certainly good for quick, uncomfortable laughs, but they make little sense. More importantly, they undermine the drama of the film: With every character's feelings and motivations constantly laid bare, it's hard to develop any tension or suspense. The characters' insincerity comes from the co-writers (and directors) Ricky Gervais and Matthew Robinson, who penned a story that desperately wants to be a Charlie Kaufman script but is as mediocre as the movie's protagonist. Like the Bob Dylanesque Donovan song that fills a montage, The Invention of Lying is a shallow imitation of other 'indie' dramas that offer an exploration of a true human experience.
It certainly doesn't help that none of the film's characters are particularly likable. Mark is an infallible, half-hearted Christ figure who gives a lie-based religion to the masses (after claiming he knows what happens after you die), and he inherently knows when it's OK for him to lie and when it's better to tell the truth. Other than discovering the ability to lie, Mark doesn't seem to have a character arc. He pines for the superficial Anna, who refuses to be together with him based on his looks, despite her feelings for him. In our world, truth doesn't trump emotion -- that's why little white lies exist. But in The Invention of Lying there is no emotion. There's nothing for us to latch onto.
Without any interesting characters or a theme about the consequences of lying, The Invention of Lying quickly loses direction, filling its 100-minute runtime with meaningless montages and cameos. Seeing Christopher Guest as an ascot-sporting story reader or Ed Norton as a crooked, albeit honest, cop is more enjoyable than the story; it would be more apt to call the film Cameo: The Movie. The Invention of Lying doesn't dare venture into the grey moral shadows of lying. More unforgivably, it doesn't even use its premise in a clever, entertaining way.
The DVD includes a (silly) prequel, deleted scenes, podcasts, and some making-of footage.
Take your Emmy and go.
