“My Baby’s Daddy,” a new comedy (think “Three Men and a Baby” goes to the ’hood) left on moviegoers’ doorsteps Friday without advance screenings for critics, marks an early-year low for humor, style and civility.
The daddies in question — Eddie Griffin, Anthony Anderson and Michael Imperioli — all deserve better than this.
Lonnie (Mr. Griffin), G (Mr. Anderson) and Dominic (Mr. Imperioli, of “The Sopranos” fame) live in perpetual adolescence. Their infantile nirvana is interrupted when each learns he is going to be a father, even though none of them is married.
G doesn’t want to drop his dreams of boxing glory to change diapers. Dominic is so preoccupied with the white rappers he manages, he fails to notice that his baby’s mama likes mamas, not daddies. Only Lonnie, a nerd of Urkel-like proportions, embraces fatherhood. Yet he’s given no help by his girlfriend (Paula Jai Parker), who seems more interested in maintaining her well-manicured nails than in being a fit parent.
Of course, the daddies’ initial reluctance melts once they spend some quality time with the infants, establishing the film’s gooey center. Sure, it’s heartwarming to see young men come to their senses about the responsibilities of fatherhood, but does it have to come wrapped in such a clumsily tied, tattered bow?
We get the inevitable diaper-changing scene, and Mr. Anderson overplays it right on cue. The actor, who appeared in, by my count, three mediocre comedies last year (including “Kangaroo Jack”), better start reading some of the scripts he takes, or he’ll soon be toiling in the direct-to-video mines.
Better times should await Mr. Griffin, whose dweeb-to-stud transformative scene provides the film’s sole laugh. Mr. Imperioli always has his “Sopranos” fame to fall back on, although projects such as this bode ill for his chances of springboarding out of the show’s lengthy shadow.
“My Baby’s Daddy” lurches from “playa” romp to family comedy to Farrelly-style insult fest without ever telling us to fasten our safety belts. It steals so liberally from so many sources, it’s meaningless to keep tally — though a late-stage “Look Who’s Talking” theft deserves mention for both its audacity and its incompetence.
Scenes collide with one another without rhyme or reason, and characterizations change to fit each poorly staged scene. The proceedings perk up only slightly — and temporarily — when rapper Method Man surfaces as No Good, G’s ne’er-do-well cousin fresh out of jail.
The film might have scored some points with its cross-cultural casting between sexual partners. Then, G dubs his Asian-black baby Bruce Leroy, and we learn his girlfriend’s family’s names include Cha-ching, Grandpa Bling Bling and Lil’ Ding-a-ling.
So much for social progress.
TITLE: “My Baby’s Daddy”
RATING: PG-13 (Crude humor, sexual situations and drug references)
CREDITS: Directed by Cheryl Dunye. Written by Eddie Griffin, Damon Daniels, Brent Goldberg and David Wagner.
RUNNING TIME: 100 minutes
MAXIMUM RATING: FOUR STARS
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