A man finds a mask imbued with the spirit of Loki which can bring out the best, and worst, of the wearer, and must use the powers it grants him to try to save the town from a vicious mob boss.
A few things came out of 1994. The Lion King was released. The first PlayStation came into existence. I was born. And Jim Carrey had three movies hit the theatres that launched him from In Living Color famous to box office gold, and the world became a better place because of it. Nestled in between Ace Ventura: Pet Detective and Dumb & Dumber, we were given the gift of The Mask, and while it may not have aged as well as one would hope, there’s no denying the absolutely amazing comedic skills that Carrey was able to bring to the role. 30 plus years later, we’re still laughing at this over the top and absurd comedy, and I would be lying if I didn’t say that it helped shape my personality from being on near constant rotation on the childhood television set. Yes, we had a landline, too. I’m a millennial.
While it’s easy to get swept up in how scene stealing Carrey can be, let’s not forget that none of it would be possible without the source material comic book of the same name. However, that original work of fiction was much darker and more depressing than the film we got, and I’m personally glad that director Chuck Russell decided to move in a different direction. Doing constant revisions and reworks on the script by Mike Werb to accommodate for Carrey’s audacious brand of comedy, in the end, the screenplay became merely a suggestion, with a lot of the comedic gold we see on screen being improvised. And I thank Russell for allowing that to happen, considering the film was shot before Carrey’s major success. His faith in Carrey did us all a favor and allowed him to shine as the comedic legend we all know and love today.
Of course, even for all of Carrey’s work as a mastermind of physical comedy, and playing the dual role of both the quiet and tame Stanley Ipkiss and the boisterous and cartoonish Mask, we can’t forget about Cameron Diaz in her big screen debut. She’s gorgeous and endearing, and even though her character was written as little more than a caricature, she brings a certain heart to Tina Carlyle that makes you cheer for her to find freedom of the shackles that bind her to the mobsters running the town. That said, the rest of the cast is pretty run of the mill and rather easy to throw away and forget. Peter Greene is a never quite scary kingpin, Richard Jeni is a flat best friend stereotype and Amy Yasbeck is a paper thin reporter looking for a scoop. But Peter Reigert certainly stands out from the crowd, as does Jim Doughan, as the police after Ipkiss. That Cuban Pete scene wouldn’t be the same without them!
With cinematography by John R. Leonetti, who would go on to direct several big name horror films like Annabelle and The Silence, and that iconic score by the wonderful Randy Edelman, The Mask is well put together from behind the scenes, giving a fantastic stage to the show that Carrey is most definitely running. Their input helps to amplify his comedy, as do the special effects, which look strikingly wonderful even this many years later.
While some of the jokes don’t hit as hard as they used to, the depiction of women being rather objectified is dated, and the story feels flat more often than it feels inspired, The Mask is still a fun time. Some might even say it’s a party time. P-A-R-T-Why? Because I’ve gotta!