By Coral Lin
Marriage conventions are tossed out the window in this stylish and devilishly hilarious portrayal of romance and wedded bliss at its absolute worst.
Mail Order Wife, directed by Andrew Gurland, follows the travails of Adrian Martin, an overweight doorman from Queens -- with an overgrown bush of hair resembling that of a Chia Pet -- as he decides to purchase a mail order bride through an international matchmaking company that sets up pathetic, American shmucks like Martin with young foreign women. In exchange for having full liberty to document the entire process, Gurland has agreed to pay for the entire matchmaking service.
After perusing through brochures, Martin chooses Lichi, a young, demure-looking woman from Burma and the two begin a correspondence spanning several months, eventually culminating in her arrival in New York and a marriage ceremony aided by a translator. What follows is no surprise as we realize that Martin's use for Lichi is not one of emotional love and attachment, but rather servitude -- in more ways than one. We aren't surprised when he teaches her how he wants the toilet cleaned, and the proper way of making chili (“keep stirring”). We aren't surprised when we learn that pathetic schmuck Martin has a penchant for filming dirty, disturbing videos with Lichi as his star. What does come as a surprise is Lichi's response when she leaves Martin and seeks solace from a seemingly protective Gurland. Events take an even more bizarre twist as Gurland, unable to stay uninvolved, ends up falling in love with Lichi and marrying her -- a move that throws Gurland and Martin into a darkly comic and obsessive chase after a woman who ultimately deems them both “losers.”
Gurland's film, rather than making a statement about sexual exploitation as we expected, becomes instead a parody on documentaries -- or shall we say, mockumentaries? Gurland attempts to present himself as Lichi's savior and benefactor, someone she ought to be thankful to have. In doing so, he succeeds in becoming a smarmy, pretentious prick who talks to Lichi as if she were a child rather than his wife. Martin, who we almost pity for his blundering, completely misguided attempts at married life, still remains a horrifyingly disturbing vision of sexual deviance. Even Lichi -- who we at first sympathize with because of her immigration struggles and her misfortunes with love -- throws us completely off guard as elements of her true personality emerge. We witness instances of her insanity and manipulation, which are so bizarre as to provoke hilarity, particularly the scene between her and Gurland about having babies.
Yet, what redeems Mail Order Wife -- and even raises it triumphantly above all others in its category -- lies in the very insanity that the film promotes. At first glance, the film is dark and disturbing, and the characters psychotic with absolutely no redeeming qualities. Martin and Gurland are so deliciously crude and scummy in their attempts to attain Lichi that we are willing to overlook her flaws and her manipulative character in order to see her knock both men off their pedestals. Yet there is an underlying sense of dark humor, audaciously poking fun at the idiocy of men and their ideas of romantic love, examining objectification and male obsession with their genitalia. Mail Order Wife, filmed with the intention of appearing like a low-budget documentary, presents instead a stylishly accomplished film that has the impudence of serving laughs where audiences may otherwise have sensed discomfort.
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Published: Thursday, May 26, 2005