Eva Fangoria Parker should stick to Desperate Housewives. In Over Her Dead Body, she plays a shrill, control freak bride blessedly killed by an ice sculpture on her wedding day. If the movie ended there, it would be an Oscar winning short subject, but it goes on for another hour and a half, with only the snappy wit and charm of Paul Rudd to save it. Stephen Root also has a thankless part as a scruffy sculptor, and Lake Bell is decent as Rudd’s romantic interest, but there’s not much else to like.
Paul Rudd’s a guy’s guy. In Role Models (full review) he showed he can carry his own film, but unfortunately here he’s playing second fiddle to a ghostly bridezilla. Normally, I enjoy Hollywood fantasies about the afterlife. For a guy to watch Ghost, it says something. So I sat through this one with the Firecracker, since she has a crush on Paul Rudd, and I needed to make sure she wouldn’t pack her bags and stalk him after seeing this. He’s pretty much the only redeeming quality of the film, which suffers from some of the same malaise Ghost Town (full review) had- it’s tough to make us care about a couple of funny jerks and then believe when they change like Scrooge on Christmas Day.
Eva Longhorn Parker tries really hard, but she’s a bitch (the film’s original title was Ghost Bitch) from scene one, and we wonder why Paul Rudd would tolerate her for even a moment. The script plays off of stuff from Ghost, but could have used a few rewrites- I began to wonder if Rudd’s dialogue was improvised, but even that is only barely memorable. All I can recall right now is when he gets her a sandwich, and says “I hope you like it, I was going to get pumpernickel, but didn’t want you to think I was imposing my weird bread fetish on you.” There’s also a lot of slapstick involving his new love interest and her Great Dane that makes you wonder.
So boys, if you are forced to watch this, negotiate oral sex in advance. And that may not be enough to make this tolerable. Gals- it might be worth throwing on in the background if you like Rudd. And yeah, her name’s Longoria, I know. Durrrr.