Whether or not Vince Vaughn and Owen Wilson are believable as salesmen, their sheer presence effortlessly sells the dopiest of movies. There's a crumbling landmark quality to Vaughn's unlikely angles and bristling energy—like an Ansel Adams landscape crossed with a lump of undercooked hamburger after the power's been turned on high. It’s a presence that demands immediate and unconsidered reassurance, a role Wilson's Butterscotch Stallion was born to play. As The Internship
opens, we care not at all about the implausibility of luxury-watch reps schmoozing a regular customer over steaks and single malts only to learn their company's gone bankrupt. That's but the first of countless script placeholders never to be fleshed out along this clumsily assembled narrative, which finds Vaughn and Wilson as old and out-of-touch Google interns. Still, with leads so charming and dialogue so crisp, any insistence upon critical standards seems utterly churlish. This isn't Vaughn and Wilson's first feature together, of course, but this limp hackjob has none of Wedding Crashers
' biting wit or respect for storytelling. The film makes no apologies for an unflinching boosterism of all that Google represents. Surprisingly, though, this less-than-anarchic perspective doesn't diminish the constantly inventive, profoundly entertaining performances from our stars. The film neatly treads the line around glorification of Google's mission while the characters' sardonic practicality cuts against the devotional corporate culture. However gleaming the Googleplex within The Internship
's triumphant final shot, the film succeeds only so far as its heroes undermine the meaning of success.