The only smattering of cheap chuckles come from the 8-year-olds in the audience (the movie is rated PG-13, by the way) tickled by the booger and fart humor. And it also also helps if the jokes are funny, which none are.Īnother of the film’s problems is homing in on who the film is made for. But it’s doomed to failure without at least some kind of structure or logical narrative flow. Just look at this summer’s This is the End to be sure. The idea here is to put together a group of funny guys, let them improv and bounce a bunch of funny stuff off one another. And if every character is indeed a working schlub, how is it that they never have to do any work to pay for those lavish homes? For instance, what school gives a ballet recital - during the middle of the day - on the last day of school. They’re somehow able to squeeze much more than 24 hours of clowning around into the course of a single day. Peppered with some lightly touched upon issues such as bullies are bad, tolerance is good, and a goofy thread about facing up to the things they never dealt with in their youth, it’s one of those films that takes place during a single day, even though the timeline doesn’t really work out. Meanwhile, Lenny and his buds wander the small town interacting with the locals that include a bus driver hopped up on goof balls (Nick Swardson), a pair of looney cops (Shaquille O’Neal and Peter Dante), and a gang of local frat boys, led by Taylor Lauren, who threaten the townies with a final showdown at Lenny’s big party.īeyond that, there’s really not much else to the plot. You know, the normal environment of vomiting, farting, crotch-chopping, and urinating deers. Sandler is Lenny, a one-time Hollywood hotshot who recently moved his fashion designer wife (Salma Hayek) and their children back to his hometown with the grand thoughts of raising them in a normal environment, rather than the craziness of Hollywood. The film stars Adam Sandler, Kevin James, Chris Rock, and David Spade as a group of childhood friends getting together for a summer of fun and childish shenanigans. If there is any doubt about how low Grown Ups 2 goes, just consider that Rob Schneider, Deuce Bigelow himself, opted out of the fun this time around. It’s just a series of unlinked juvenile skits and vulgar sight gags that feature vomiting, farting, a urinating deer, countless crotch blows, and a hum-drum ‘80s-themed backyard party. In Grown Ups 2, there are no lessons to be learned, no character growth (no real characters for that matter), and not even a plot. What we’ve encouraged is undoubtedly THE worst film of the year and one that may very well find itself atop any list of the worst films of the last several years. Unfortunately, we movie-goers are the ones responsible for lining the path to idiocy with such low-hanging riches. Studios are out to make a buck, and will typically follow the easiest path to the biggest pot of gold. Shall we blame this on the money-grubbing studio system gorging on its banquet of flavorless remakes, sequels, and reboots, or is this one on us, the zombified movie-going public that so generously rewarded the first Grown Ups film with a healthy $260 million worldwide haul, all but ensuring a revisit? Because let’s face it, cinema has hit a new bottom with this bar-lowering piece of defilement from Happy Madison, the studio that has done more to tarnish the name of American filmmaking than Michael Bay, Joel Schumacher, and David Zucker combined. Who is to blame for Grown Ups 2? Yes, blame.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |