Review in a Hurry: If you actually enjoyed The Hottie & the Nottie and/or Sorority Boys, you might find harebrained Bunny funny, with Anna Faris as a Playboy Playmate who makes over a loser sorority. Otherwise, hop on by, lest you fall down this rabbit hole of stupidity.
The Bigger Picture: Though scripted (sloppily) by Karen McCullah Lutz and Kirsten Smith, Bunny is caged in some outdated, male-centric world, where sexy women are bimbos, smart women are frumps and all are willing to change themselves to score guys. Oh sure, the last act preaches "Be who you are!" but that implanted moral is as genuine as all the perky boobs.
The plot—a half-witted spawn of Legally Blonde (also Lutz and Smith) and Revenge of the Nerds—centers on Playboy Mansion resident and centerfold-wannabe Shelley Darlingson (Faris). Booted out of the house that Hef built, sweet but vapid Shelley moves in with the sorority girls of Zeta Alpha Zeta.
The Zetas are a bunch of ridiculous stereotypes, social misfits with tragic hairstyles and plaid-flannel wardrobes. They desperately need our airhead heroine's help—not just with makeup, manis and men, but also with their charter's survival. Unless these outcasts can recruit thirty new pledges, ZAZ will lose their house to the scheming be-yotches of Phi Iota Mu.
Slutty-dressed Shelley needs her sisters' help, too, as she tries to woo bland, brainy Oliver (Colin Hanks). Though why she strains to smarten up for him is unclear, since there are scant sparks between them.
Faris makes a convincing ditz, has a body of death and can handle the physical shtick. But her dumb-blonde movie is just dumb—stale jokes, silly characters and second-rate supporting actors who, despite their shameless overplaying, can't wring laughs from the material.
Beverly D'Angelo, as a snooty housemother, is completely wasted. And Hanks, so promising in Orange County, hasn't looked this uncomfortable since he was cooked alive in battery acid in Untraceable. Too bad this Bunny wasn't boiled.
The 180—a Second Opinion: Faris does this deep, scary voice—à la possessed Linda Blair in The Exorcist—whenever she says someone's name. It's a funny and totally random bit. (But you might need a priest to purge the rest of this soul-stealing experience.)