Fun
Frisky
Nostalgic
Intense
Adventurous
Choked Up
Curious
Romantic
Weird
Between early 1994 — the year Jim Carrey left the sketch series In Living Color — and late 1996, he played a sleuth who recovers the Miami Dolphins mascot and a sacred African bat (Ace Ventura: Pet Detective, Ace Ventura: When Nature Calls), a bomb-swallowing robbery suspect (The Mask), an ex-limo driver who accidentally rat poisons his would-be kidnapper (Dumb & Dumber), an inventor-turned-supervillain (Batman Forever), and a technician who nearly kills his client at Medieval Times (The Cable Guy). The majority of these roles required daily hair or make-up transformations, not to mention supplementing his trademark physical comedy and facial contortions with newfound vocal tics and catchphrases.
Now a specialist in embodying cartoony oddballs, Carrey chose his next film carefully. Both he and his Ace Ventura: Pet Detective director, Tom Shadyac, aspired to make more grounded comedies. They signed on for a film that cast Carrey as his most relatable leading character to date: an overworked, divorced civil servant who happens to be “a bad father.” This man wore suits, worked in an office, and drove a regular-sized car. Unreliable, forgetful, and unethical, his problems were mostly of his own making. On paper, the most exceptional detail from his life was his name, Fletcher, which was staccato, difficult to say, perfect for an asshole.
In Liar Liar, Fletcher is never where he says he’s going to be, causing much hardship for his co-parent, Audrey (Maura Tierney), and their son, Max (Justin Cooper). Alongside Max, Fletcher is a high-energy and very entertaining: all sight gags, sound effects, and offbeat nicknames. But Fletcher is almost always working (a common tendency that was especially believable from Carrey, who at age 12 lived with his family in a van after his father lost his accounting job. This was discussed in the wondrous commencement speech Carrey delivered in Iowa at the Maharishi University of Management in 2014).
When he breaks a promise and skips Max’s fifth birthday party to have sex with a superior, Max blows out his candles, wishing that his father could go a single day without lying. The wish comes true; Fletcher realizes something is amiss when he admits to his overnight conquest, “I’ve had better,” then — after she’s throws him out — a judge inquires about his day and he tells the courtroom, “I’m a little upset about a bad sexual episode I had last night.” The blunders heighten from there, with Fletcher begrudgingly becoming a better person while also confessing a litany of rapid-fire vehicular infractions to a police officer, turning a promotion into a pink slip, and nearly losing Max when Audrey attempts to uproot them to Boston with kind, bland Jerry (Cary Elwes). “What’s your problem, schmuck?” someone asks. “I’m an inconsiderate prick,” he responds, internalizing the newfound truth.
Liar Liar features lots of Carrey slapstick — he alone could scuffle with a pen for two full minutes, so frustrated that he cannot mouth the word “red” when it is blue. The movie’s best line comes when he levels with Max about lies grown-ups tell children, like how making a funny face for too long won’t actually cement your features. “In fact some people make a good living that way,” Fletcher says, referencing Carrey’s real-life oeuvre (he earned $20 million for this role). But what lingers from Liar Liar 20 years later is Max’s devastation after his father eschews their umpteenth playdate, and the audience envisions Max as bitter grown man, damaged because Fletcher was never around. We’re led to believe that this doesn’t happen, though — while strapped to a stretcher, on an airport terminal, with two broken legs, Carrey delivered the most touching, heartfelt monologue of his career thus far, telling Max exactly what every once-neglected child desperately wanted their wayward parents to say: I’m sorry, I love you, and you’re all I need.
