'Lying' fools itself

Ricky Gervais has cast himself perfectly as the hero of The Invention of Lying. Playing mild-mannered Mark Bellison, the first fellow to practice the art of prevarication in an alternate world where everyone tells the truth, he's a master of covert-ops performing.

Gervais makes it fun to follow an abject failure like Bellison on the worst day of his existence. His squeamish boss (Jeffrey Tambor) summons the guts to can him; the woman he's convinced is the love of his life (Jennifer Garner), turns him down for a second date.

When faced with eviction, Bellison's creativity and survival instincts mesh, in a sequence all the funnier for being so matter-of-fact. He lies about how much money he has - and in a world where everyone tells the truth, even cashiers, tellers and pit bosses believe him. No one is keener than Gervais at expressing the collision of inspiration and desperation; no one is more lifelike in his glee at a lucky strike. Bellison is on his way, he thinks, to power, wealth and happiness. Lying gets him two out of three.

The movie gets about two-thirds of the way to somewhere, too. In The Invention of Lying, Gervais has created a comic premise that's also about the invention of poetry, fiction and religion. It's more than Gervais and his co-director and co-writer, Matthew Robinson, can take to the bank. Like Bellison, they keep inventing lies that don't yield interest or mature. The film is one hilarious bounced check after another.

All the characters except Bellison not only speak the truth but also say whatever is on their minds at any given moment. Literalism cripples them emotionally and intellectually.

The cascade of ideas proves both pleasurable and frustrating. As the movie retreats into a happy-ever-after ending, even its outrageous lies seem more like little white ones.

The Baltimore Sun