Imagine Hollywood had something similar to baseball’s Hall of Fame and that retired/dead stars had to have their entire careers summarized in a brief paragraph on a bronze plaque hanging in an overpriced tourist attraction somewhere in Los Angeles. What the heck would Bruce Willis’ plaque say? Would it mention his great work in edgy films like Pulp Fiction and Twelve Monkeys? Probably not. Would the plaque list the actor’s popular action films like Die Hard and Armageddon? Maybe, but this is probably how Willis’ plaque would read: 

“Born in West Germany, ‘Bruno’ made the successful leap from bartender to television’s Moonlighting to feature films in the late 1980s. Willis was best known for starring opposite talented child actors and providing the voices for infants. He was married to actress Demi Moore for ten years, and the two superstars had three kids with really dumb names” 

Okay, the last part might not make it on there, but you get the point. Despite having a pretty eclectic resumé, Willis’ career may be remembered this way. Why? Because the following mathematical formula is the hottest thing in Hollywood: “Willis + pre-pubescent boy + clever script = box office gold” 

The movie with the kid who could see dead people made how much money? Quick, let’s get Willis in something else with a kid right away. The result is Disney’s The Kid, a whimsical tale about a grumpy workaholic that gets in touch with the kid he used to be by actually meeting the kid he used to be. That’s right; through some sort of kooky Freaky Friday movie magic, the grouch actually meets himself at age seven. 

Willis (The Whole Nine Yards) plays Russell Morley Duritz, an over-stressed image consultant with a twitchy left eye. The Kid’s first five minutes sets up Russell as a maniacal jerk that shuns his own family but helps his crooked, high-profile clients look better in the public’s eye. Though this is supposed to make Russell an unsympathetic character, I couldn’t help but think that the world would be a better place with more people like him. He’s smart, efficient and cuts through the bull with a blunt honesty that comes off as rude and arrogant. If saying things that are on your mind is a bad thing, then lock me up. 

A few days before his fortieth birthday, Russell begins seeing some strange things. A red bi-plane seems to be following him around and a snot-nosed kid appears in his house, somehow evading his state-of-the-art security system. At first, he thinks he’s hallucinating the whole thing, but after comparing scars and birthmarks, he realizes that the kid, Rusty (Spencer Breslin from the short-lived Dan Ackroyd sitcom Soul Man), is really himself from thirty-two years ago. 

The rest of The Kid involves Russell hating Rusty and trying to get rid of him, but eventually growing attached to the boy and learning a little bit about himself in the process before the film winds down to a two-hankie finale that should choke up anyone that has recently had a pulse. I’m sure The Kid will hit home with anyone under age twelve or over age forty, but everybody else might just roll their eyes at the films sentimentality, which is hammered home by South Park musical collaborator Marc Shaiman’s sweeping score. 

Breslin is a revelation as young Rusty, who shrieks his disappointment that he grows up to be wife-less, dog-less and cool-job-less. Willis plays a pretty good tight-ass but looks like he’s having way too much fun doing it. There are times when Willis is barely able to stifle his smirk when he’s supposed to be miserable. He did nasty and irritable much better with General William Devereaux in The Siege. Willis’ apparent new best friend Matthew Perry makes a funny unbilled cameo, as well. 

The Kid’s script, which was written by Waldo Salt Screenwriting Award winner Audrey Wells (Guinevere), is pretty clever for a family film, but it had a bunch of problems, too. Russell spends his whole life trying to distance himself from his past, yet somehow has totally forgotten the most traumatic event that ever happened to him. And the film is dragged down a bit by the romance between Russell and his perky moralistic sidekick (played by British waif Emily Mortimer, Love’s Labour’s Lost). She’s not even the best match for Russell. He would have been better off with his wisecracking personal assistant (Lily Tomlin, Tea With Mussolini) or a local television news anchor (Jean Smart from Wells’ Guinevere). 

The Kid was directed by Jon Turteltaub, who has helmed such non-kid-friendly films as Instinct and Phenomenon. It plays pretty similarly to a couple of films that have already come out this year, especially the arthouse release of Pip Karmel’s Me Myself I, where Rachel Griffiths goes through a similar ordeal on her thirtieth birthday. You know, movies like these are the reason people dread the big 3-0 and 4-0 (and beyond). They aren’t upset about getting older – they’re worried about having to meet themselves. 

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