The Brothers Solomon Reviews

SNL's Will Forte and Arrested Development's Will Arnett are two ordinarily very funny guys trapped in a dreadfully unfunny comedy. After a day spent being the "best they can possibly be" — a can-do, keep-it-positive attitude they've learned from their beloved father (Lee Majors) — brothers Dean (Forte) and John Solomon (Arnett) return home to some awful news: The video store claims they owe nearly $30 in late charges they've already paid, and their never-say-die dad is just about dead. Racing to the hospital after a quick stop at the video store to dispute the charges, Dean and John find their father has just lapsed into a coma, but not before revealing to his doctor (Charles Chun) his only regret: He probably won't live long enough to meet his first grandchild. Dean and John are distraught. Their mother died when Dean and John were just kids, leaving Mr. Solomon to raise his sons on his own in the isolation of the North Pole (don't ask), where he home-schooled them all the way through a PhD program in geology. What Dad couldn't teach them were social skills: John thinks a good way to meet women is to hang out at a supermarket and buy them groceries like other men buy drinks, while Dean makes the mistake of listening to his brother for dating advice. Nevertheless, Dean and John are determined to fulfill their father's fondest wish by finding a willing woman and "putting a baby in her." Perhaps if Dad has a milestone like the birth of a grandchild to look forward to, he'll hang on long enough to snap out of his coma. Unfortunately, no one is interested in carrying their baby, especially not Tara (Malin Akerman), the attractive, long-care-nurse-in-training who just moved in next door. Undaunted, Dean and John turn to — where else? — Craigslist.com, the online buy, sell and trade where they actually find a woman (Kristen Wiig) willing to undergo artificial insemination, but for a price. If anyone is to blame for this bomb it's Forte: He wrote the thing, and one would assume he's the one responsible for those uncomfortable silences where jokes are supposed to be. Bob Odenkirk, who had marginally better luck — and material — with Arnett's LET'S GO TO PRISON (2006), directed, but he's not entirely off the hook: Someone needs to tell him that comic glares and goofy grins do not a comedy make.