Oh, the life of a poor spoiled celebrity. What are they to do? It must be nice to sit around, doing nothing but staging family photographs at Wal-Mart, and thinking up ideas of what you want to do today. And the world must stop because you want whatever it is to happen too, shouldn’t it? For friends Rebecca Romijn and Steve Willis, they decide they want to program the Bellagio Hotel’s infamous water fountain to a song of their choosing. Since they have money and status, they make it happen. They arm themselves with a camera (and Jerry O’Connell as their boom operator) to document this ridiculous event for the world to see.
Wet Dreams aims at being a light-hearted comedy but ends up being a reality show from the depths of Hell to which I have never been. It’s downright frustrating to watch director Steve Willis bring his little doggies into the planning sessions while Peter Kopik, the engineer of the fountain, succumbs to their every request. You end up feeling bad for this guy. Every time Romijn comes up with an idea about what water fountain should shoot and when it should shoot, she gives Peter a little tap with a stick. You just want him to punch her but he is too polite to do so. Never has a film so short felt so long. Wet Dreams does nothing its title promises; it only leads us to question why anyone cares about celebrities doing idiotic things, especially when it’s televised (or made into a film).
