Fletcher Reede, a scummy lawyer and unreliable father, catches a dose of humility when his young son uses a birthday wish to momentarily halt his fibbing ways. Thanks to a mystical plot device, dad can’t tell a lie for twenty-four hours, which is bad timing as he already has a lucrative court date on the books and his estranged wife is entertaining the idea of taking the kid and leaving town. Selfish though he may be, Reede does love the little tyke and would be heartbroken to fade out of his life.

The practical rules of this curse are a little hazy. Not only must the victim speak with complete honesty, he also can’t shut up or control his most basic physical urges. Any time somebody asks a question, usually of the transparent setup variety, he spits a frank opinion and then goggles, bashfully, like a misbehaving child who’s about to catch the rod. Though obnoxious, this blunt mechanic works to emphasize the film’s only major strength: an adlib-happy Jim Carrey in the prime of his comedic career. Or maybe just a hair past his prime. Either way, _Liar Liar_ serves as an effective vehicle for Carrey’s unique brand of contortionist charisma and far over-the-top vocalizations. These alone elevate a thin comedy, which would’ve otherwise made for bargain basement straight-to-video fodder, into something a few steps higher. Good enough to draw nine digits at the box office, anyway.

So it’s Carrey as the magnetically overbearing sort, a role he’d already played countless times but hadn’t totally worn out, trying to make things right with a cute youngster while wearing an expensive suit. Cary Elwes is here, too, but he gets very little to work with as the stiff nice guy trying to make a move on the ex. Not great, but also not a complete waste of time.