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Bird watching...sorry, "birding," is evidently the latest twist in the attempt to jumpstart the high concept comedy. Apparently, a simple sense of humor is not enough. While based on a true story -- who could make this kind of thing up? -- and the book The Big Year: A Tale of Man, Nature and Fowl Obsession by Mark Obmascik, what we really have here is an attempt to marry an obvious life metaphor to a trio of potential comedy kings. Unfortunately, no matter how hard they try, Steve Martin, Jack Black, and Owen Wilson come across as constipated, not clever. Indeed, in the arena of good ideas gone flawed and fractured, The Big Year is mostly small and insignificant.
Black plays a 36 year old divorced software geek named Brad Harris. A huge fan of the greatest 'birder' in the world, contractor Kenny Bostick (Wilson), he vows to take on the ornithological titan for the title of "The Big Year" -- an informal competition ranking among enthusiasts to see who can spot the most species in a single calendar year. He's hoping to earn his father's (Brian Dennehy) respect; meanwhile, his travel agent mom (Diane Wiest) starts booking Brad's flights. Bostick, concerned that someone is clearly going to try and beat his record of over 700+, decides to head out onto the road himself, much to the dismay of his irritated and desperate-to-get-pregnant trophy wife Barbara (Rosamund Pike).
Also entering into the fowl fray is one Stuart Preissler (Martin). He's a high-powered corporate executive who desperately wants to retire, but can't find a permanent way of doing so. Using The Big Year as an excuse to escape his office toadies (Joel McHale and Kevin Pollack), he eventually meets up with Brad and Bostick. Their gentlemanly demeanor turns corrosive, however, the minute they learn of each other's goal. Suddenly, the standard male competition concerns come to the fore. Meanwhile, Stuart's wife (JoBeth Williams) is understanding and supportive, while Brad's luck with the ladies changes upon a chance meeting with fellow feathered friend lover Carol (Rashida Jones).The idea is pretty outlandish (it's like making a movie out of the goings-on inside the International Society of Chicken Sexing) but the execution is on the average side. Something like The Big Year should be better. It should soar on the backs of its talented cast and rise majestic above the mainstream movie horizon, along with its eccentric core conceit. Unfortunately, director David Frankel can't find the right way to approach this material. He treats it as farce when something subtler is needed. He also allows his actors to play directly into their Tinseltown stereotypes -- Wilson is a snarky smart aleck, Martin is a gracious boob, and Black is the bumbling fat slapstick spectacle -- instead of giving them room to grow.
Granted, everything looks scenic and majestic, the travelogue quality of the narrative giving way to some truly beautiful nature sequences. But there is nothing emotional going on inside. The Big Year is just so pragmatic, so worried we won't get the rules of the contest and the reason these three men need to mature that it forgets to find some heart. About the closest we come is when Black takes a fancy to Jones and the two strike up an easy unrequited attraction. Everything else -- Martin's creeping mortality, Wilson's weird obsessiveness -- are just time-suck excuses to expose more celluloid. True, birding may be a solitary, insular pursuit, only important to those who enjoy its meek geek attributes. The Big Year should have tapped into said shaggy dog ideal. Instead, it focuses on talking the talk and ends up stumbling in its own footsteps.
