House Bunny is the big breasted attempt at attention directed by Fred Wolf. House Bunny is only a 90% waste of time.

Playboy Bunny Shelly Darlingson (Anna Faris) lives the life of luxury with her beloved Playboy Bunnies in the Playboy Mansion. The day after her twenty seventh birthday she receives a letter from Hugh Hefner (Hugh Hefner) telling her to vacate the Playboy Mansion within two hours. Devastated, she is cast out to live in her old beat up station wagon. Serendipitously, she is introduced to the dying ZETA sorority, who need a house mother. The ZETA’s are in danger of losing their sorority charter without 30 pledges, but they have been unable to get the numbers they need because they are as awkward as water is wet. The charming but horribly graceless defacto leader is Natalie (Emma Stone), the about to burst pregnant sister Harmony (Katharine McPhee), the physically braced Joanne (Rumer Willis), the painfully shy Lilly (Kiely Williams), the masculine country beast Carrie Mae (Dana Goodman), and radical feminist gothish chick Mona (Kat Dennings). During her first event with the ZETA girls, Shelly meets Oliver (Colin Hanks); a sweet nursing home manager.

Anna Faris, who has the main role in the movie, seems to have the four B’s going for her; blond, beautiful, boobies and Botox. She definitely has a beautiful body, but I found the movement in her face constantly distracting. The corners of her mouth seemed unable to work together; only one side could be up at a time. If she had blown me away with her acting, I wouldn’t have mentioned it, but she didn’t.

Nothing about House Bunny blew me away. I spent a great deal of time looking at the movie instead of watching it. I caught myself wondering if it was a set or if they were real houses, what it would be like to visit the Playboy Mansion, if Hugh Hefner is really as nice as he seems, if I should wait to go to the bathroom, if I was out of popcorn, if I had filed my *****tasex***** for last year, if I should write a piece on liking geeks; anything but the movie. It wasn’t because I was not myself that day or I was distracted, I was bored.

Oliver, Shelly’s love interest is a completely useless, unnecessary character. If he had been cut from the movie or been given an actual purpose, I might have enjoyed House Bunny more, but director Fred Wolf and writers Karen McCullah Lutz and Kirsten Smith didn’t make the right decision.

I expect a comedy of this style to be full of over the top characters acting larger than life but Carrie Mae is so ridiculous; she wouldn’t survive anywhere but in an Idaho trailer park. She runs like a charging bull, hits on boys by talking about taking a dump and talks like a five year old girl trying to speak like a man. Dana Goodman can’t tone it back and director Fred Wolf doesn’t do a good enough job suffocating the exaggerated tendencies of Goodman.

Seventy-five percent of House Bunny’s plot is how to look and act like a Playboy Bunny. No one can deny there is value in looking good but I don’t know if I value it enough to make an entire movie about looking like a Playboy Bunny. I certainly don’t think a movie needs to be made about acting like a Playboy Bunny.

There is probably as much plot in pornography as there is in House Bunny. Rent porn, you’ll get more bang for your buck.

- LaRae Meadows