"Twelfth Night" in prep school, with cellphones
Take Shakespeare's "Twelfth Night," toss in bits of "Tootsie," a nod to "Clueless," and a few too many soccer scenes and you'll have "She's the Man" — an enjoyable, goofy teen comedy that's probably more fun if you're Bard-literate. Viola (bug-eyed Amanda Bynes) arrives at a new school, Illyria Prep, disguised as her brother Sebastian in order to play on the boys' soccer team. In drag, she promptly flips for hottie Duke (Channing Tatum), who isn't interested because he thinks Viola/Sebastian is a boy. Meanwhile, pretty Olivia (Laura Ramsey) is attracted to Viola/Sebastian, a situation complicated when the real Sebastian (James Kirk) suddenly arrives from overseas. If music be the food of love ... well, play on, dudes.
"She's the Man," with Amanda Bynes, Channing Tatum, Laura Ramsey, Vinnie Jones, Julie Hagerty, David Cross. Directed by Andy Fickman, from a screenplay by Ewan Leslie, Karen McCullah Lutz and Kirsten Smith, inspired by the play "Twelfth Night" by William Shakespeare. 105 minutes. Rated PG-13 for some sexual material. Several theaters.
Screenwriters Ewan Leslie, Karen McCullah Lutz and Kirsten Smith (the latter two have traveled this road before, transforming "The Taming of the Shrew" into "10 Things I Hate About You") miss a few opportunities here. Andrew and Toby, Duke's supposedly comical sidekicks, have virtually nothing to do, and the doleful misfit Malcolm (guess teenagers aren't named Malvolio these days) drops in and out of the movie, never once cross-gartered. And they often drop the Shakespeare parallel in favor of generic teen-movie silliness, including a few pointless fights.
But director Andy Fickman brings plenty of energy, and his movie is well-cast, right down to the smallest roles. David Cross ("Arrested Development") makes something gloriously weird of the role of Illyria's all-too-accommodating principal, and Alex Breckenridge has screechy fun as Sebastian's soon-to-be-ex Monique.
But any "Twelfth Night" requires the right leading lady, and Bynes rises nicely to the occasion. With her sardonic charm, she throws herself into this none-too-glamorous role, swaggering and spitting and doing a fairly credible impersonation of a late-blooming teenage boy. Events occasionally conspire against Viola/Sebastian, however: The girly ringtone on her cellphone almost gives her away, as does the fact that she doesn't flinch on the soccer field after a ball is kicked into her crotch. (She pauses, shrugging it off, and then, seeing the boys around her grimacing in sympathy, belatedly screams in manly pain.) Bynes may not be the man, exactly, but the girl is worth watching. As is this Shakespeare fellow.
Moira Macdonald: 206-464-2725 or mmacdonald@seattletimes.com