Made

REVIEW
Bobby (Favreau) and Ricky (Vaughn) have, in their way, been made since high school; Bobby the serious, plodding loser with heart; Ricky the pain-in-the-rear screw-up who would never have a job if Bobby didn’t make himself a two-for-one deal. As sometimes happens in adolescence, these two have developed one of those symbiotic relationships that endure through all tribulation. The film opens at a dismal boxing ring as the two -- sweating, overweight, out of shape and out of breath -- lumber and jab at each other to a draw. As Bobby contemplates the future of his boxing career, he continues doing construction work by day and chauffeuring his live-in girlfriend to her lap dances at night, parties that are part of local capo Max’s (Falk) operations. Max taps Bobby for a higher-echelon job, from driver to muscle, sending him to New York City to oversee a drop. Of course, Ricky comes along on the journey, adding unnecessary and often dangerous complications at every turn. Director (and screenwriter) Favreau maintains a frenetic pace, painting numerous character portraits with swift, deft strokes, and underlying the action with timeless rat pack tunes, music to delineate the clueless duo lost in time and space. Made is edgy, wry, self-knowing, with an unexpected jolt of authentic emotion buried in the phony cool, which testifies that, however dysfunctional, family is where you find it. -- Ann Yarabinee