The Ringer Movie Review

Of all the indignities suffered by the intellectually disabled stars of "The Ringer," none are so great as having to share screen time with Johnny Knoxville. You wouldn't guess that Mr. Knoxville, mastermind of "Jackass," would have such a hard time playing a numbskull pretending to be disabled, especially in a movie from the brains behind "Dumb and Dumber." But the real surprise of "The Ringer" is how it bucks this seemingly insurmountable handicap to wind up a fairly winning comedy.As you might surmise of a movie about the rigging of a Special Olympics competition, "The Ringer" is the latest from the Farrelly brothers, Hollywood's reigning lowbrow humanists. While they have left the writing and directing to others (Ricky Blitt and Barry W. Blaustein, respectively), the material bears their stamp. At the sweet heart of this silly film is a determination to upend the clichés and assumptions applied to the population we condescendingly label "special."Mr. Knoxville stars as Steve Barker, a former track and field competitor who finds himself, through appropriately preposterous circumstances, pressed into rigging the Special Olympics by his boorish uncle Gary (a slumming Brian Cox). After a period of research - entailing study of "Forrest Gump," "I Am Sam," "Rain Man" and (zing!) "The Best of Chevy Chase" - Steve creates the alter ego Jeffy (or "Jeffy Dahmor, with an 'O,' " as he is habitually introduced). You won't find Jeffy's particular disability in the diagnostic manuals, but any amateur can identify a chronically unfunny case of Quasimodo meets the Nutty Professor.
Once ensconced in the Special Olympic Village, Jeffy butts heads with a colorful troupe of athletes - and Mr. Knoxville finds himself in the company of one of the year's most resourceful and hilarious supporting ensembles. Disabled? Hardly. 

It's their timing, wit and impish good spirits that smarten up this otherwise brain-dead exercise.A mix of professional actors and Special Olympians, these first-rate scene-stealers are led by Jed Rees ("Galaxy Quest"), a marvelously mischievous comedian who kills off the stereotype of the disabled as guileless cutesy-pies. As the roly-poly Thomas, who checks out the ladies behind Coke-bottle glasses, Bill Chott ("Dude, Where's My Car?") offers an irresistible rebuke to the notion of the sexless handicapped. In the role of Jimmy, a bling-laden athlete who rolls up to the games in a limousine, Leonard Flowers has a hoot as a Deion Sanders-style egomaniac.It doesn't take long for the crew to out Jeffy as a fraud. Proving the only thing special about them is their fundamental normality - which is to say, their ability to plot and scheme like everyone else - the athletes see in Steve/Jeffy a chance to thwart Jimmy's historical domination of Special Olympics. All the usual big-game clichés ensue, and everyone learns the appropriate life lessons. Corny yet progressive, "The Ringer" is the "Brokeback Mountain" of disability flicks: formulaic, irresistible and memorable insofar as it advances positive representation in mainstream culture. To its credit, however, "The Ringer" is far less tasteful in its affirmations.The movie does manage to be relatively charming and intermittently funny so long as you forget the useless romance between Steve/Jeffy and Lynn (Katherine Heigl), a perky Olympic volunteer. Of course she will find out the truth, and of course the kooky sidekicks will arrange for a reconciliation. The film was, after all, made in the intellectually challenged context of Hollywood. As such, it's a forgivable case of two steps forward, one step back."The Ringer" is rated PG-13 (Parents strongly cautioned). It contains mild foul language and slurs.