This cat fight between a pastel Jennifer Lopez and a well preserved Jane Fonda marks the triumph of cosmetology and couture over comedy, with hot real estate sweetening the skin-deep deal.

Both Monster-in-Law stars know something about overexposure and in the last couple of months Fonda has won the ubiquity crown, popping up everywhere to promote her racy tell-all memoir. What transpires when her character, media maven Viola Fields, tries to wreck her son's engagement isn't scandalous enough to have made it into the book.

Fonda is true Hollywood royalty and her movies, controversial politics, and marriages hold some interest. She has been many different things over the years -- powerful, manipulated, debased, outrageous, prolific, and toned (remember the workout videos?). Viola, an aging television journalist, is all of these. She's part Barbara Walters, part Oprah, and part high-society lady who lunches, preferably with the booze flowing.

Her nemesis Charlie, short for Charlotte, is also a grab bag. She's a dog walker, a temp in a medical office, a yoga instructor and a fashion designer. During the movie's first stretch -- think Maid in Manhattan transferred to Santa Monica with cheerier outfits -- she meets Viola's physician son Kevin (Michael Vartan) on the beach. They begin a gushy, insipid romance encouraged by her friends the gay neighbor and the caterer. 

Enter a fantastic looking Fonda. When Viola gets fired from her TV talk show and is replaced by a young airhead, she goes berserk on air. After a stint in a mental healthcare facility she returns home and is promptly introduced to Charlie. All one needs to know about the dispensable Kevin is that he proposes in front of his mother. The character is mere window dressing (a nice role reversal if gender politics is your thing) but it's unclear what Charlie sees in him other than his looks. Nevertheless, his mother is very protective and declares war, attempting to sabotage the impending nuptials. Eventually plucky Charlie turns the tables and fights back. 

The saving grace of Monster-in-Law is comedienne Wanda Sykes, who provides the lioness's share of the humor as Viola's wiseacre assistant. She serves as the chorus and gets the choicest lines, but it's indicative of how many opportunities are missed that she and Viola don't share more antics. They make a great pair and the inspired casting is nearly wasted. Trotting out Elaine Stritch at the very end as another nightmarish in-law is a total waste.

Every so often during the sitcom with high-end sets and costumes, director Richard Luketic (Legally Blonde) finds the right mixture of estrogen and slapstick.  Problem is the gloves come off way too late in the proceedings. The fractured effort would benefit from letting loose more often. In two quick sequences, Viola imagines pounding Charlie's head into the table, and Charlie fantasizes about whacking Viola with a cast iron skillet. More of this, and not just as wishful thinking, would have been nice. Another tack would have been to get inside Viola's mind to examine her real motivations for conspiring to wreck the engagement of her only child to a "temp".

Luketic doesn't show a great flair for staging physical comedy but he's got a keen eye for styling, fashion (J. Lo’s frilly dresses, worn over blue jeans, may become a trend) and Southern California real estate. Viola's two homes are gorgeous.

The best that can be said about the two likeable divas is that they aren't afraid to make fun of themselves and appear silly. What Monster-in-Law needs is more images of Fonda snoring face down in a plate of tripe -- courtesy of Charlie-administered tranquilizers -- and Lopez with hideously swollen lips, courtesy of a nut allergy. Overall, the nuttiness is inexplicably rationed. 

(Released by New Line Cinema and rated "PG-13" for sexual references and language.)