Starsky and Hutch

On the face of it, this might sound like one of the most ill-advised cinematic enterprises since Charlie’s Angels were resurrected: nobody, surely, looks back on the late-’70s cop-show Starsky & Hutch with anything fonder than a mildly amused, embarrassed benevolence. Even the most ancient and decrepit of hacks might, in truth, struggle to recall the show too clearly – it breathed its last in 1979 when I was a bouncing five-year-old, leaving nothing but a blank in the memory. Nonetheless, the mere release of crud like Charlie’s Angels serves to prove that almost any trash-telly phenomenon can be given the movie treatment once the 20-year timescale has elapsed and legitimised it as nostalgic fun (hence the proliferation of shows like I Love 1980!) – and shockingly enough, Starsky & Hutch actually serves up plenty of decent mindless fun, or at least enough to keep us going until they treat us to Kojak Returns.
Not exactly burdened by intellectual pretensions, it’s written up as a straightforward buddy movie-cum-cop spoof, with real-life pals Ben Stiller and Owen Wilson (on their sixth film together) somehow managing to summon humour from almost every tiny exchange, their facial expressions throughout bordering on comic genius. Stiller’s Starsky is, of course, uptight and excessively dedicated to his job, while Wilson’s Hutch is a chronically lazy layabout for whom work is a dirty word: the pair are assigned to uncover the source of a new undetectable, unsniffable, Alsatian-proof cocaine, which leads them to the doors of (no great surprise) the co-stars’ pals Will Ferrell and Vince Vaughn. Meanwhile, everybody’s favourite stoner Snoop Dogg is inspirationally cast as Huggy Bear, a very minor variant on his character in 50 Cent’s P.I.M.P. video: Snoop’s incessant latterday MTV appearances have revealed him to be a very likeable laid-back presence, and he goofs and grins his way here through some admittedly daft gangster scenes with effortless ease.
Deliberately inane, but endearingly so, Starsky & Hutch’s barely-there plot is, of course, no more than an excuse to sneer from a great height at the horrendous style excesses of the decade that taste forgot, and no cheap shot is spared, from Stiller’s horrendous Kevin Keegan perm to Wilson’s vile brown leather jacket. On occasion it feels like little more than a vastly-extended version of the Beastie Boys’ ‘Sabotage’ video, with the pivotal car-chase scene at the end more than a little overstretched – but in view of how awful it could easily have been, Starsky & Hutch’s sheer good nature comes as quite a breath of fresh air. It’s as camp as a pink Juventus away top, but I defy anyone to dislike it.

100 mins. Cert 12 PG. Opens March 19