Danny Boyle's third directorial effort thus far (after Shallow Grave and Trainspotting), A Life Less Ordinary developed a deadly case of the cutes in its inception, among other ailments. A prologue introduces two angels, Jackson and O'Reilly (played with unappealing hostility by Delroy Lindo and Holly Hunter, respectively), both in Gabriel's (Dan Hedaya, misappropriated) bad books for the climbing divorce rate "down below." They must successfully unite one human couple or face exile from heaven, which here looks like a sterile precinct. That's a funny idea, until you consider that explusion from such an institutional afterlife would be nothing less than a blessing.

Then we meet Celine (Diaz), a slender young woman who will serve as one half the target of Jackson and O'Reilly's matchmaking scheme. Here, in her first scene, Diaz emerges from an Olympic-size swimming pool, retrieves a pistol, and calmly blasts an apple off her unfazed butler's head, like a robot programmed for games of William Tell. John Hodge's leaden script doesn't bother to explain why anyone in civilized society, even a manservant, would risk his or her life for her amusement--we're expected to accept whatever weirdness is thrown our way because quirky movies have a logic unto themselves. Because, I guess, we've been "warned" by the Heaven-set introduction.

Nearly every page of this material burdens Diaz, who takes the path of least resistance by playing it cipher-cool. Nevertheless, the character's inscrutable. Why is this poor rich girl, not a homicidal maniac, totally lacking in remorse after accidentally shooting her orthodontist lover (Stanley Tucci, co-writer/co-director/co-star of the acclaimed Big Night) in the head? It's as if Celine knows she's in a cartoon movie, where people reinflate themselves after a steamroller flattens them. How difficult is it to generate sympathy following such an appalling act of malice? Impossible. For Diaz, at least.

But then, I suppose the movie is trying to say something about the glibness of contemporary (i.e. post-Tarantino) movie violence. Boyle has been quite vocal in his desire "to beat Hollywood at its own game," and A Life Less Ordinary certainly acknowledges, if while failing to subvert, dozens of clichés along its way to the finish line. Because it's so arrogantly and pretentiously made, the picture is ultimately more aggravating than an artless and routine kidnap thriller like Ransom. To all you smart filmmakers out there who might also want to helm pompous po-mo critiques of big, glittery blockbusters, understand the following two axioms: high-minded slumming is still slumming, and the masses know when their tastes are being mocked.

Yes, A Life Less Ordinary is about a kidnapping. Ewan McGregor as Robert takes hostage Celine, the daughter of his former employer (Ian Holm), because he was replaced in his job by robots. She has been abducted before, and instructs him on the finer points of holding someone captive. It was never his intention to drag her along on a misadventure--she's more or less goaded him into it as a plea for attention from her miserly dad.

Next to the equally self-conscious (visually, at least) 'kidnap trilogy' of the Coen Brothers (Raising Arizona, Fargo, The Big Lebowski), A Life Less Ordinary really pales. I've dragged the Coens into this since Raising Arizona served as a structural template of sorts for this film: pseudo-criminals hook up, other pseudo-criminals give chase, wackiness ensues. (Is the casting of Holly Hunter deliberate hommage?) Why Raising Arizona works and A Life Less Ordinary doesn't, discounting Joel and Ethan's superior command of the elements of story and style, is easily explained: together, Boyle and Hodge have a more cynical worldview than the Coens do (yes, believe it), bordering on mean-spirited.

Boyle doesn't even give us our closing moment of Celine and Robert together in lovers' embrace. Instead, the two are in splitscreen, yammering on at us about their relationship as if narrating an aspirin commercial. (This is once the angels have turned into hired killers and Robert, an avid reader, has ditched his book-talk for many painful paragraphs about the game show in his dreams.) Adding insult to injury is a satisfyingly offbeat epilogue depicting the fate of our heroes in Claymation--note how much more expressive the plasticine Diaz is.

There's Something About Mary, on the other hand, is a charmer, with enough warmth to make a second viewing, usually a chore with comedies (since all the best cards have been revealed), a joy. Thirteen years ago, Ted (Ben Stiller) ruined his prom date with Mary (Diaz) by getting his member caught in his zipper, and never saw her again. At the urging of his hives-prone friend, Dom (Chris Elliot), the still-lovestruck Ted hires oily claims investigator Pat Healy (Dillon) to locate her. Healy finds Mary in Miami, where she practises as an orthopaedic surgeon. She is single, lonely, and gorgeous as ever. Of course, because there's something about Mary, Healy tells Ted just the opposite of what he has learned for the chance to seduce Mary himself (with the aid of spy equipment). Eventually, Ted uncovers the truth and travels to Miami, where he vies for Mary's affection against Healy and a disabled British architect (Lee Evans). Ted's advantage: Mary's favourite person, her mentally challenged brother, Warren (W. Earl Brown), likes Ted; Mary hasn't forgotten the day that gawky Ted defended Warren in a schoolyard brawl.

Everybody loves to repeat the good jokes, but I'm going to bite my tongue and say this instead: high-concept directors Peter and Bobby Farrelly know how to craft the Big Laugh Sequence. They introduce a dirty gag and build on it until they can't withhold the gross-out any longer. Their timing is impeccable during the extended high school flashback that opens the film. Stretches of this movie pass with little laughter, some perhaps too long, and yet one is grateful for the time to recuperate from certain twisted passages. And nearly every character comes alive in this film, from Magda (Lin Shaye), Mary's repulsively tanned neighbour (with skin like a suitcase, it's difficult to determine just how old she is), to the spasmodic hitchhiker (Canadian comic Harlan Williams) Ted takes for a ride.

There's an enigma at the film's centre, though, for which the game Diaz isn't totally blame: a woman's personality is always subsumed by the process of deification. Babelicious, smart, happy, meat-eating, beer-drinking, and unimpressed by good looks, the title character is a geek's idea of a goddess--but the real "something" about her remains sketchy at best. (When Mary names Harold and Maude as her favourite movie, I tried in vain to connect it to her other attributes. She loves it because some male screenwriter loves it.) On the other hand, Stiller is terrific: somehow he always plays the straight man, yet somehow he always steals the biggest laughs. (Shame on the filmmakers, however, for thoroughly wasting "The Larry Sanders Show"'s Jeffrey ("Hey Now Hank") Tambor in an insignificant bit part.) Despite a morose (if appropriate) ending, There's Something About Mary is a movie with heart, managing to humanize a group of stalkers and gleefully flying in the face of political correctness. What else could you ask for in a modern comedy? Claymation?

A Life Less Ordinary is also a worse DVD than There's Something About Mary's. Presented on a single-layer disc in 2.35:1, unenhanced widescreen, Boyle's film often looks blurry and blotchy; shadow detail is especially poor during the scenes of Robert and Celine cavorting in a dark cabin hideaway. I noticed no significant compression artifacts, at least, but it's obvious that a great effort was not put forth for this video transfer. Though the film has a good soundtrack (featuring the likes of Beck), the Dolby Surround audio on this disc is also pretty lifeless, no pun intended. The film was not initially mixed in 5.1, rare for a studio picture circa 1997. There are one or two surround effects, most notably during a thunderstorm, and music is occasionally carried by all of the speakers, but the audio essentially amounts to a glorified stereo presentation. Extras include a trailer and subtle interactive menus.

There's Something About Mary is a collector's item on DVD. Letterboxed (but again, non-anamorphic) at 1.85:1, Mark Irwin's images are so crisp and evenly saturated on this disc that they have a tactile quality--you feel as though you could reach out and run your fingers through Mary's hair...pre-gel, of course. The accompanying 5.1 and 2.0 soundtracks wake up (in 5.1, at least) during a go-kart race and the final "Build Me Up Buttercup" number. Dialogue occasionally sounds compressed.

We waited a while for There's Something About Mary's DVD release, and Fox has made up for the delay by providing supplementary material. If only the Farrelly brothers would learn the art of the commentary: as with Kingpin, the directing duo points out every single person on the screen, explains how these people came to be hired, whence they hail, etc. (it's always, "Here's so-and-so, he's originally from such-and-such"). They don't provide any insight into the process of writing, producing, directing, and editing a box office smash. Additionally, there's an outtake/gag reel set to Smash Mouth's "Walking on the Sun," which is cut too fast to get laughs, a theatrical trailer, a karaoke sing-along (for "Build Me Up, Buttercup"), cast and crew bios, and an animated menu starring Magda's punching bag of a dog.-Bill Chambers