The gently satirical and occasionally amusing but at times nearly somnambulant “Paint” is not about the late and legendary landscape painter Bob Ross, but every review of “Paint” will almost certainly name-check Ross. Because writer-director Brit McAdams is clearly doing a send-up of Ross, and Owen Wilson is most certainly channeling Ross, from the world-class perm to the low-key speech patterns to the repetitive, relatively simplistic and weirdly soothing style of art.
To what end, though? Wilson’s Carl Nargle (there’s a name for ya) is narcissistic, petulant, misogynistic and duplicitous and yet still not very interesting, despite Wilson’s earnest, offbeat performance. It doesn’t help matters that while Carl is the manipulating villain in most of his relationships, the women around him are thinly drawn, inconsistent characters who comport themselves as if they’re in an extended “Saturday Night Live” sketch.
