Whoa, Daddy

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It’s about time a film addressed a pressing problem that hasbeen the secret shame of millions, a condition politicians never dare toaddress, a situation even the mouthiest TV pundits refuse to discuss.

We’re talking, of course, about lice — and “The Switch” isthe gutsy, no-holds-barred movie that tackles this burning (or should we say,crawling) issue.

No, the lice are not in the celebrated tresses of “Switch”star Jennifer Aniston: That would be too terrifying for even a devout horrorfan to witness. But they do make an appearance at a critical point in the plot,and directors Josh Gordon and Will Speck thoughtfully stop the show sotake-charge caregiver Wally (Jason Bateman) can demonstrate the necessary stepsto take in order to delouse a house.

Not that Wally doesn’t have other concerns on his, um, mind.Seven years ago, Wally got plastered on the very night his friend Kassie(Aniston) was about to attempt artificial insemination with the seed of hunkybaby-daddy-for-hire Roland (Patrick Wilson). Unbeknownst to anyone else, Wallysemi-accidentally spilled Roland’s sample and replaced it with his own secretingredient. Clueless (and perhaps visually impaired) Kassie has never stoppedto wonder why her neurotic, brunette 6-year-old son, Sebastian (Thomas Robinson),looks and behaves like a miniature carbon-copy of neurotic, brunette Wally andbears no resemblance whatsoever to his perfectly composed, blond “father.”

Kassie and Wally are each outfitted with an irritating pal.She hangs out with a mouthy make-up artist (Juliette Lewis, whose slack-jawedacting style has changed not a bit since “Cape Fear” and “Natural BornKillers”) while he is stuck spilling his secrets to his wacky boss (JeffGoldblum); in reality, Kassie and Wally would probably run across the street toget away from people like these two, but no one’s likely to mistake “TheSwitch” for cinema verite.

“The Switch” isvery loosely based on a Jeffrey Eugenides’ short story titled “Baster,” andit’s one of those oddball films that can’t seem to sustain a tone for verylong. The screenplay by Allan Loeb starts off on a coy note, then barrelsheadlong into raunchiness before reversing course to settle into po-facedseriousness. You might suspect each director had his mind set on making his ownkind of movie and they eventually came to a half-hearted compromise midwaythrough production.

Despite the major names in the cast, “The Switch” has theunderlit, slapped-together look of those quirky, low-budget pictures that nevergo far beyond the film festival circuit. There are a few amusing lines andideas here and there, but the only thing holding the movie together is Bateman,who gives it whatever emotional impact and warmth it has; Wally could easilyhave been little more than a callous clown, but Bateman finds real tendernessin this heart of this misguided guy. Wilson and Robinson are also very good,although they’re hemmed in by the constraints of their characters.

As for Aniston, she continues to be the McDonald’s ofleading ladies: She delivers exactly what you expect, with no surprises and notmuch flavor. As she’s done so many times before, Aniston runs through the TeriGarr Gallery of Facial Expressions and Vocal Inflections, although the sparkleand self-effacing wit that were always present in Garr’s performances only turnup intermittently in Aniston’s work. Unwilling to step outside her comfort zone(as she did in her first-rate performances in “The Object of My Affection” and“The Good Girl”), Aniston has become an all-too-predictable — and too-oftenreactive — presence; maybe it’s time for her to follow Wally’s example andswitch it up.