The Big Kahuna: comedy-drama. Starring Kevin Spacey, Danny DeVito, Peter Facinelli.  Written by Roger Rueff.  Directed by John Swanbeck. Rated “R”. Now playing at Bay Area Theaters.

Hollywood likes the word “big.” America does too. We drive big SUVs, shop at big shopping malls, eat big hamburgers, watch big-screen TVs. We’re big. Thankfully, The Big Kahuna isn’t “big” like a 42-ounce soft drink featuring a drawing of a football star; it’s a small movie with big things to say and very little to do. And that’s why, unfortunately, nobody will see it.

The Big Kahuna may conjure images of bald men in Hawaiian shirts sipping mai-tais and tripping over themselves as bikinied blondes slink by, but the movie is actually about three marketing reps who do little more than talk in a hotel suite in suburban Wichita, Kansas. If you’re looking for action, be forewarned that the only fast-paced action comes from Kevin Spacey’s mouth--but it’s more entertaining than car chases.

Spacey and Danny DeVito play two long-time industrial lubricant sales partners, Larry and Phil. Judging by the cocktail party DeVito’s character (Phil) stages to land an account with a wealthy businessman (the “big kahuna”), neither their careers nor their long-term partnership are going particularly well. The “suite” he’s booked is so small that Larry insists on rolling the coat rack into the hallway to make more room. The hors d’oeuvres consist of an “oversized cheese ball” and baby carrots with a bowl of ranch dip. Larry cheerfully drives in the knife by describing to Phil the delectable gourmet treats another party is serving on the floor below.  Despite Larry’s aspirations to the contrary, however, these two are oversized cheese balls themselves. The conflict lies in the fact that Phil has reached the point where he no longer cares, and Larry still desperately chases the mirage of the big break he’ll probably never get. This basic setup makes for both good comedy and drama.

Into this party mix comes Peter Facinelli as Bob, the new marketing trainee sent to learn the ropes from the veterans. Facinelli is excellent as the cherubic, pink-cheeked Baptist who’s ill prepared for the banter of two friends who’ve spent years hardening their souls in hotel rooms. Six months out of college, Bob believes in the sanctity of marriage, regularly works Jesus into conversations, and is convinced that lusting after another woman equals adultery. In short, his brand of naiveté couldn’t be further from Larry’s entrenched cynicism and brutal honesty. When Larry asks Bob if he loves his wife, he replies, “Of course I love my wife. Why wouldn’t I?”

As the three disparate characters clash, topics such as honesty, integrity, friendship, and love arise. Hard to imagine DeVito and Spacey discussing such issues, in any roles, but they effectively do. And, for the most part, director John Swanbeck doesn’t let things get slow. He paces the movie well, knowing when to build tension and when to pull back.

However, at times it’s hard to shake the feeling that The Big Kahuna exists only as a platform for Spacey’s wit and deadpan derision of all that is sacred. Larry is tailor-made for him. From the first shot it’s clear that we’re in for another incarnation of Spacey as the wisecracking know-it-all who learned in grade school to wield his tongue as a weapon. He’s everything we’re learning to expect from him: cynical, biting, snide, smug... while still remaining devilishly handsome and charming. He constantly pushes Phil and Bob just far enough to get under their skins but not enough to get punched.  He’s good at it. No other actor can impassively deliver sarcasm like Spacey nor look as mischievous or as utterly entertained in doing so. As good as DeVito and Facinelli are in this movie, Spacey runs them over, even when not saying anything.

In fairness, though, DeVito’s role isn’t meant to be a stage grabber--Phil is tired, disillusioned, recently divorced and has clearly spent too much time in hotel suites. You find his kind in airport lounges with tie loosened and eyes irreparably glazed. This is a subtler role than usual for DeVito and a welcome change. He does well playing a character who’s beginning to question his life, though sometimes the subtlety verges on sleepwalking so instead of looking spent and self-doubting, he looks more like he’s not putting forth enough energy.

Most of the action centers around the inaction of waiting, which brings us to Roger Rueff’s screenplay. In a movie that centers around words, the words have to be good--and here they are, achieving the difficult task of keeping the interest of an audience used to fast-paced editing and constant changes of sets and costumes. There’s not a single gun, not a single ounce of sex--not a single woman, for that matter. The movie is full of lines you hope you’ll remember. For example, young Bob tells Phil he can’t imagine what divorce is like and Phil responds, “Believe me, the picture becomes clear after a very short time.” And Spacey gets to deliver lines like the one he says to Bob shortly after meeting him: “You’ll be a good marketing rep--you can talk without thinking.”

As a footnote, I have to admit that during the first ten minutes or so of the movie I kept looking for Annette Bening. That’s how similar Spacey’s role as Larry is to his role in American Beauty. Someone on high in movie-executive land seems to have deemed Spacey the master of sarcasm and cynicism, which he undoubtedly is. But considering that Spacey delivers probably seventy-five percent of the lines in this movie, and ninety percent of those are mired in sarcasm, the gimmick starts to get annoying. Even too much Spacey is a bad thing. Here’s hoping his next role is as a wide-eyed unquestioning saint.

Still, if the goal of art is both to entertain and to provoke, then The Big Kahuna succeeds. But don’t expect tidy resolutions or clear-cut lines between heroes and villains. The movie raises “big” questions but doesn’t try to answer them. The asking is enough.