'Impostors': A Genuine Treat By Michael O'Sullivan Washington Post Staff Writer Friday, October 2, 1998

Stanley Tucci and Oliver Platt star in "The Impostors." (20th Century Fox) Director: Stanley Tucci Cast: Oliver Platt; Stanley Tucci; Walker Jones; David Lipman; Alfred Molina; Lili Taylor; Tony Shalhoub; Hope Davis Running Time: 1 hour, 40 minutes Under 17 restricted Compare prices for this movie Find local video stores More movie shopping Save money with NextCard Visa

Steve Buscemi sings! Oliver Platt wears a dress! Can it get any sillier than that?

Actually, it can and it does.

Directed and written by Stanley Tucci, "The Impostors" reunites much of the cast and crew from his 1996 hit "Big Night," including Campbell Scott, Tony Shalhoub, Isabella Rossellini and Allison Janney.

Here, Tucci stars with Platt as Arthur and Maurice, a pair of untalented and underemployed actors in the 1930s, forced into hiding on a cruise ship by a ranting British thespian (Alfred Molina), whose overwrought performance as Hamlet they had dared to criticize the night before. Once afloat, the stowaways encounter a veritable ship of fools, including (in addition to their irate pursuer) the aforementioned Buscemi as Happy Franks, a suicidally depressed lounge singer.

In addition to the oxymoronic entertainer, the floating parade of multinational nut jobs includes Scott as head steward Meistrich, a scenery-chewing German control freak with a riding crop and an accent to rival "Young Frankenstein's" Frau Bluecher. There's also a gay Scottish wrestler (Billy Connolly), an anarchist bomber from a nameless Eastern European principality masquerading as first mate (Shalhoub), his country's deposed monarch (Rossellini), a pair of murderous con artists posing as French tourists (Richard Jenkins and Janney) and the ship's incompetent Italian detective (Matt McGrath).

The ludicrously Byzantine plot – involving Arthur and Maurice's attempts to remain incognito while saving the ship and the lives of its passengers – doesn't even matter that much. Suffice it to say that the far-fetched setup primarily gives the cast free rein to ham it up as never before with a panoply of atrocious foreign accents and a histrionic bluster that will take your breath away. The rampant overacting is so staggering that audiences may require a period of adjustment before their eyes get used to the glare. Stanislavsky's Method this ain't.

Thankfully, it is abundantly clear that this is Tucci's stylistic choice and not some B movie run amok. From the protracted, silent opening – in which Maurice and Arthur perform an exaggerated death scene in a sidewalk cafe – to the antiquated on-screen titles ("The Audition," "The Scheme"), "The Impostors" grows more and more deliciously inane.

This film's idea of a sight gag? A sign reading "To the Poop Deck." Believe or not, the sophomoric joke works.

Another refreshing curiosity – after the bombastic verite of such movies as "Titanic" – is the fact that in this story set on a luxury liner, water is nowhere in evidence. Such deliberate artificiality seems prompted as much by aesthetic as budgetary considerations. Again and again, Tucci reminds us that this is just a movie, not real life, as when Maurice is shown reading the jabbering first mate's English subtitles.

And, in case you still don't get it, as the closing credits roll the entire cast dances off the set to the elaborate choreography of a Busby Berkeley musical. Frivolous in the best sense of the word, "The Impostors" may be just the old-fashioned tonic to sobriety that this country needs.

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