Zoolander

Like the insanely successful Austin Powers, Ben Stiller’s meatheaded male model Derek Zoolander is out to lampoon a fashion industry which many might already suggest is well beyond parody. Sure enough, Zoolander is a bit of a one-joke affair; luckily, it’s a joke that works pretty well.

The plot: a secret meeting among leading fashion designers is convened after a newly-elected radical Malaysian prime minister promises to outlaw child labour, thereby threatening to destroy the entire fashion industry. By way of a counter-plan, poncey up-and-coming designer Mugatu (Ferrell) is assigned to organise the Malaysian PM’s assassination.

Meanwhile, dimwitted male model of the year Derek Zoolander (Stiller) is facing a crisis. He’s just lost his Male Model of the Year title to his arch-rival Hansel, has received a critical savaging in Time magazine at the hands of journalist Matilda Jeffries (Stiller’s real-life missus Taylor), and subsequently returns home to his coalmining dad and brothers only to be rejected.

Slinking back to New York, Derek accepts designer Mugatu’s offer of work modelling the new ‘Derelicte’ (inspired by the homeless) range. In reality, Mugatu sets about brainwashing Derek to carry out the desired assassination, but with Matilda Jeffries learning from a conspiracy theorist (Duchovny) that all political assassinations can be traced back to male models, help may be at hand.

Despite Zoolander’s initial premise, it’s not exactly biting satire even by Stateside standards, as confirmed by the presence of industry luminaries such as Tommy Hilfiger, not to mention the persistent product-placement within the film. Then again, given that more high-minded attempts to satirise the industry’s pretensions have tended to backfire hideously (Altman’s Pret-a-porter), it was probably as well that Stiller, on his second outing as director after 1996’s Jim Carrey vehicle The Cable Guy, stuck to safer material. Hardly surprisingly, weaving a light comedy around the assumption that models aren’t the brightest little pixies in the forest proves well within his abilities. Stiller plays Zoolander as a dumber version of his usual likeable but neurotic self, adopting a ridiculous pout and supremely vapid speaking voice, and the movie generally manages to justify itself through sheer goofy charm.

Ultimately, Zoolander doesn’t quite hit the heights of some of Stiller’s other comic turns (the magnificent Flirting With Disaster being a case in point) but this makes for frequently funny and amiable fare nevertheless.