Wedding Crashers (2005)

Wedding Crashers (David Dobkin, 2005)

Walken plays: Secretary William Cleary - politician, sailor, frazzled dad, light sleeper

Synopsis: Wedding Crashers, also known as 'Every 16 Year old Boy's Favourite Comedy For a While,' was made in the peak of the Will Ferrell/Ben Stiller heyday of dumb-clever mainstream comedies. It was the Family Guy era where cultural relevance was gauged by quotability, and the more crude non-sequiturs, the better. And Vince Vaughn and Owen Wilson were two of its Crown Jewels. So who wouldn't want to join the two for a snappy romp, crashing weddings, sleeping with as many women as possible (cue bare boobs montage to the Isley brothers!), and Lots. Of. Riffing. What could possibly ruin such a joyously daft misogynist wet dream? Why, love, of course. And when Wilson finds it in the doe eyes of a bashful bridesmaid (Rachel McAdams), Vaughn is along for a ride that will involve him getting shot in the ass, blitzkrieged in football by Bradley Cooper, and tied to a bed and jerked off under the table during family dinner by Isla Fisher. If only that requisite third act sad spell didn't have to mope along and ruin the fun... 

Walken's in full scary patriarch mode here as Fisher and McAdams' politically-connected dad (as Vaughn quips, this man could literally have them killed). Surrounded by quirky side characters filling the stereotypical 'Christopher Walken parts' (the drunken, lewd, homophobic grandma; Todd, his gay, emo, artist son; Isla Fisher's batshit sex maniac), Walken plays against type and occupies the calm centre therein, and is all the more hilariously threatening for it. He's savvy enough to not overplay it, allowing his ominous persona and malevolent stare to do most of the heavy lifting, and effortlessly letting laughs bubble up from incongruous situations rather than caving to eccentric mugging. 

Take the scene where he sits on the bed next to a bound, gagged and sex-ravaged Vaughn and decides to open up about his problems connecting with his son. It's classic slapstick, and Walken's comedic touch is as light as a feather. He knows the joke lies in his sincerity, so he ebbs frazzled vulnerability...right before letting his gaze absently fall upon Todd's painting of Vaughn, naked, his crotch covered by a fig leaf. "Okay then," he softly replies. "Sleep well." Comedic gold. And you want emotional closure in your climax? Just wait for his "I stand by my daughter" alter-side speech. Oww, my feelings.

"Someone's been sleeping in MY bed!" 

Wacky Walken dialogue: For the most part, Secretary Cleary is too conservative for any goofy Walken histronics, but his interactions with Todd lead to some good bits: "He says he believes in art, but all I've seen him do is dribble his own blood on a canvas and smear it around with a stick." There's only one bit which flirts with standard Walken wackiness: he chimes in on Fisher explaining her childhood imaginary friend's magical language, querying "Pa-ta-tow?", but even this is more sweetly paternal than bonkers.   

DOES HE DANCE: Secretary Cleary is your classic Renaissance Man's man. He sails. He plays football. He shoots quail. And, naturally, he ballroom dances with his wife. It's socially appropriate, after all.

[Be a man] You must be swift as the pounding ocean

[Be a man] With all the force of Cooper football

Overall Walken-o-meter: 7/10 cowbells. In what would normally play as one-note stunt casting, Walken carves out a surprisingly credible straight man, working situations rather than creating them, and building off the bedrock of his intimidating image rather than camping it up. He's not the most memorable bit of the movie, but he's the lynchpin of many of its best gags, and his unselfish team playing rather than scene-stealing still lands it as among his better work.

"Grandma! You stole my bit! I'M supposed to be the bonkers, gun-toting one!"