Evan Almighty

Universal Pictures once looked at a screenplay about a man building a wooden boat in a Virginia suburb and decided it was worth a $175 million investment—roughly the same amount of money it cost to produce Batman Begins. In the mid-2000s, this was the peak of the "Blank Check" era, where a studio would bet the farm on a high-concept comedy if it had the right face on the poster. Coming off the nuclear-grade success of The 40-Year-Old Virgin and the rising cultural dominance of The Office, Steve Carell was that face.

I actually watched this again while trying to assemble a particularly stubborn IKEA bookshelf, and I found myself pausing the movie three times just to check if my neighbor’s sprinkler was hitting my window, only to realize the sound design for the "great flood" was just that persistent. It’s a strange, loud, and undeniably earnest artifact from a time when we thought CGI animals were the pinnacle of cinematic comedy.

The $175 Million Beard

When Jim Carrey declined to return for a sequel to Bruce Almighty, the producers pivoted to Steve Carell’s news anchor character, Evan Baxter. The shift in tone is jarring if you watch them back-to-back. While the first film was a PG-13 exploration of ego and narcissism, Evan Almighty is a pivot toward the "Family" genre that feels almost like a Sunday School parable. Evan is a newly elected Congressman who moves his family to a McMansion in northern Virginia, only for God (Morgan Freeman) to show up and demand he build an ark.

The comedy here relies almost entirely on Steve Carell’s Herculean efforts to make physical transformation funny. As God forces him into the "Noah" look, Evan’s beard grows back instantly every time he shaves. His suit transforms into a burlap robe in the middle of a Congressional hearing. Carell is a master of the "frustrated everyman," and he commits to the bit with a level of sincerity that the script probably didn't deserve. He isn't playing it for winks or nudges; he plays the terror of a man losing his mind to a divine calling with total conviction.

However, the sheer scale of the production often swallows the jokes. When you have hundreds of live and digital animals—from giraffes to baboons—crowding the frame, the intimate comedic timing that made Carell a star gets lost in the stampede. I couldn't help but think that it’s essentially a very expensive episode of The Office directed by Noah, but without the biting wit of the Scranton branch.

A Relic of the CGI Transition

Looking back, Evan Almighty is a fascinating case study in the 2000s obsession with "more is more" digital effects. Director Tom Shadyac didn't just want a few dogs and cats; he wanted the full biblical inventory. The production used over 177 different species of animals, and when the real ones wouldn't behave, the early-2000s CGI teams stepped in. Some of it still looks decent, but much of it has that "uncanny valley" shimmer that was so prevalent before the technology truly matured in the 2010s.

The film also captures a specific post-9/11 anxiety that manifested in Hollywood as a desperate search for "wholesome" content. There’s a distinct lack of the edge found in other 2007 comedies like Superbad or Knocked Up. Instead, Evan Almighty leans into a message of environmentalism and "Acts of Random Kindness" (ARK). It’s sweet, sure, but it feels like the edges were sanded off to ensure no one, anywhere, could possibly be offended. Lauren Graham, playing Evan’s wife Joan, does her absolute best with a "supportive but concerned spouse" role that feels beneath her Gilmore Girls sharp-tongued brilliance. She’s the anchor of the family, but the script gives her very little to do other than look confused at the increasing amount of lumber in her driveway.

The Cult of the Cable Repeat

While it famously "flopped" relative to its gargantuan budget, Evan Almighty found a second life as a perennial favorite on cable television. It’s the ultimate "safe" movie. You can put it on for a six-year-old and an eighty-year-old, and neither will find anything to complain about.

There are some genuinely fun trivia nuggets hidden in the hull, too. For instance, the production went to great lengths to be "Green," with Tom Shadyac donating the massive amount of lumber used for the ark to Habitat for Humanity after filming wrapped. Also, look closely at the animals—they were mostly paired up in actual couples to stay true to the Genesis narrative.

Ultimately, the film works best when it stops trying to be an epic and just lets Steve Carell be weird. There’s a scene involving a bird landing on his shoulder during a serious political meeting that still gets a chuckle out of me because of Carell's suppressed panic. It’s a movie that tried to be a blockbuster but was always meant to be a cozy, slightly goofy afternoon distraction. It might not be "of biblical proportions" in terms of quality, but it has a heart that’s hard to stay mad at.

Evan Almighty is a movie caught between two worlds: the sharp, observational comedy of the mid-2000s and the bloated, effect-heavy studio mandates of the era. While it lacks the bite of its predecessor, Steve Carell’s commitment and Morgan Freeman’s effortless gravitas keep it afloat. It’s a harmless, high-budget fable that serves as a perfect reminder of a time when Hollywood thought the answer to every comedic question was "add more animals." If you’re looking for a light watch with the family, you could certainly do worse than this wet and wild ride.