A review of  Tomcats” by Jeanne Aufmuth


Stars: **

Rating: R for nudity, sexual situations

Run Time: 1 hour, 32 minutes


Yet another raunchy sex farce to titillate the masses.  Jerry O’Connell stars as the commitment-phobic Michael Delaney, a dyed-in-the-wool bachelor for whom marriage is the definitive dirty word.  As friend after friend takes the plunge, Michael and his oh-so-mature cronies make a vow.  In order to prove who has the longest bachelor staying power, they will deposit unspecified amounts of money into a pot.  It’s winner take all for the last randy single guy (aka Tomcat) standing.

Thinking with his penis rather than his head, Michael trips up on a boys weekend in Las Vegas.  Trying to land a sultry redhead who digs high rollers, he rolls himself right into a $51,000 debt.  The only way out is to win the Tomcat pot, smartly invested into a tidy quarter million. The key to the dough is to marry off the other remaining bachelor.  The lucky gent in question is Kyle (Jake Busey), an obnoxious, womanizing buffoon with dirt for brains who has vowed to nail every female on the planet.  The eminently clever Michael arranges a hook-up with Natalie (Shannon Elizabeth), the former one-night-stand who has the distinction of being the only body and face Kyle can put a name to. Things get tricky when one of the guys starts to fall for Natalie – I’ll give you one guess.

This is a wildly uneven charade, swinging between the utterly offensive and some genuine, tasteless humor.   In the plus category, we have the boyishly charming O’Connell, some wicked S&M humor, and the hunt for an errant testicle (you had to be there).  In the minus column there’s Busey, whose nitwit-on-the-make is sheer degradation, and some extremely odious pick-up scenes.  Middle range and deathly predictable are the ubiquitous semen samples, the bimbo bachelor parties, and more member jokes than I care to shake a stick at. A certain weariness of the genre is setting in – rendering this juvenile comedy one huge leap shy of original.