Okay, much like the film itself, this review of it will feature some unnecessarily bad language; sporadic and largely inoffensive in the grand scheme of things, but acting as a lexical placeholder so that nothing more meaningful has to be written. Like I said, as per…
INT. DREAMWORKS SCRIPTING OFFICE. DAY.
TWO DISHEVELLED MEN SIT OPPOSITE EACH OTHER AT A LARGE DESK.
BOB: So Terry, we're making progress here, finally. Our seasonal comedy has got eight producers, six writers and two directors working on it, as well as a crowded cast-list, over-headlined by supporting actors. You've had four weeks to come up with a title, what have you got?
TERRY: Well, just erm… how does this grab you?
TERRY slides a note over the desk to BOB.
BOB: …how does what grab me? This is a sheet of paper with three words written on it. In fact, this is the sheet of paper I gave to you a month ago with the broadest possible outline for the movie scrawled over it. That's my writing. It just says "Office Christmas Party". That's when you asked what the film was about and I had to distil it as much as I could because I was on the phone to the distributor at the time. That's the setting of the film, the background, the concept. Where's my fucking title, Terry?
TERRY: …it's the simplification of-
BOB: I'll tell you what's simple, Terry. YOU. You've had a fucking month to think of a zippy title to attract the 25-35 crowd, high on Christmas cheer and the 'fuck it, it's December, let's go out watch a movie and get hammered' spirit which comes of working with people you hate for the other eleven and a half months of the year and you've done precisely fuck-not-nothing! As a title - an actual film title - "Office Christmas Party" is perfunctory, reductive and unimaginative. It shows complete contempt for an audience that we think needs everything spelling out for them, in the largest letters and lowest-common-denominator sight-gags. In fact, I'd bet a pound to a fucking penny that presenting this in a title-sequence will consist of one shot with the text laid in a single line across the screen in Helvetica bold, solid white, belying any irony while displaying the total lack of imagination that's gone into the whole, sorry project…
TERRY: I've read the script, Bob. That title works.
BOB: …Yeah, fair point. Scotch?
The chosen title, and perceived logic behind it*1, tells you all you need to know about the film.
And y'know what? The film's not awful. It's just a series of disparate sketches, some far more successfully executed than others, awkwardly tacked together with a screenplay so mechanical it makes Optimus Prime look like something you'd buy at the Deli-counter. If you like people swearing, people falling over, people over-acting drunk/high, too many dick-jokes and the occasional boob, this is your film. Sure, you can get better elsewhere, even with the same overall lack of dignity, but Office Christmas Party is a movie every bit as forced and clichéd as the workplace gatherings it claims to be satirising.
The weirdest thing is that it features a cast you've enjoyed elsewhere struggling through the half-written script as if they're reading it for the first time, playing themselves all the while. Kate McKinnon, TJ Miller and Karan Soni coast on the charm they've accrued this year in much better movies, Jason Bateman and Jennifer Aniston continue to be stuck in the rut of mediocrity to which they've become accustomed, while genre-regulars Jillian Bell and Rob Corddry lend the kind of screen support that will do them no favours in climbing higher up the ladder. At least Olivia Munn is moving in the right comedic direction. Just.
Not without smirks and a couple of guffaws, just nowhere near enough to cover the cracks which make up the entire rest of it. While it pushes (way too) hard for the happy-everyone ending, the film doesn't even try to tug at the audience's heart-strings. This, I suppose, is a blessing.
For best results watch once only and in An Advanced State Of Refreshment™.
The kind of thing that Universal usually wheel out at this time of year. Even though this isn't Universal's. Sure feels like it, though..
No, this is a £3 DVD from Asda while you're picking up pizza, some beer and a bottle of cheap vodka.
Nope.
Nope.
Nope.
Nope.
Level 2: This movie stars that Jamie Chung, and she was in Suckerpunch with Oscar 'Dameron' Isaac.
*1 and the choice of typeface as well. I'm not making that shit up. Bizarrely, the title-shot in the film uses Helvetica whereas the poster uses Arial. That's how little effort has gone in, here.
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
It's difficult to imagine the situation which prompted a sequel to 2011's Horrible Bosses being commissioned, although it's probably a safe bet to guess that the meeting didn't include the phrases "surprise hit" or "runaway success". The original did, by all accounts, provide a reasonable return both financially and critically, but was never going to set the entertainment industry on fire. So why not do it again, right? That's how the business works?
Well, whether it's the change of director or the non-change of direction, Sean Anders' 2014 sequel has come in for something of a kicking (from critics, at least) in its opening weekend, which seems a little unfair. Sure, the plot is more like a series of weakly connected sketches, some of which work better than others; sure, that plot explains itself so heavy-handedly in the first twenty minutes that it doesn't have to do any more expository work until the final reel; sure, a lot of the (clearly) improvised dialogue leaves you thinking '…this is the take they went with?'; sure, there's a clear line of good-taste which Jennifer Aniston's sex-addicted dentist Julia frequently crosses, as if daring herself to be as gross as possible rather than as funny as possible; but in all honesty, there are few insults you can fling at this film which wouldn't be equally deserving of its predecessor.
The day is saved by Jason Bateman, not doing anything new, but certainly doing what he does best. His resigned exasperation at the moronity of those around him being his calling card as a comedic actor. Similarly on good form are Jason Sudekis, Charlie Day, Christoph Waltz, Jamie Foxx and Kevin Spacey. Special props have to go to Chris Pine, demonstrating once again that his talent for comedy far outweighs those of action or drama. And if that list seems a little light on the ladies' names, that's because the film is too; Aniston is pretty much it. Although I doubt whether the film would have been any better for more female characters, it might have been nice to have given it the chance, at least.
But y'know what? I probably laughed far more than I should have throughout the film. I can't gauge audience reaction since I was at a private screening*1, but Horrible Bosses 2 never tries to be anything more than a largely unnecessary, morally-questionable farce-comedy. And in that at least, it succeeds.
That's where we're at, yeah…
Mostly, although many of the scenes end up driving into an improvisational cul-de-sac.
Oh, probably.
DVD tops, if I'm being honest.
Not at all.
I can't envision me seeking it out, but I know it'll be good for a chuckle in the right company.
Erm, there's a boot-shot? Actually, there are two boot-shots. Which is over-egging the pudding somewhat
…see you for HB3?
*1 By which I mean that I was the only person who wanted to see Horrible Bosses 2 at 3:30 on a Friday afternoon. By the time you factor in my Unlimited card, my local Cineworld were basically setting aside Screen 5 (the big screen) for 2+ hours whilst looking at the profit on an already-discounted coffee. Ouch.
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
We're The Millers Cert: 15 / 110 mins / Dir. Rawson Marshall Thurber
The main strength at the core of Rawson Thurber's heist / farce / road-movie is that its principal leads, Aniston and Sudekis, make for throughly a convincing stripper and drug-dealer respectively, and constantly look comedically out of place when they're in their 'mom and dad' roles. Because with that much of a twist so early in the film, the audience is left reeling with no clear idea of how things will pan out.
No, wait. Not that. The opposite. The exact opposite of everything I just said. Yes, that's it.
Seriously though, if you can get past the terrible mis-casting of the leads and the clockwork plot that links the set-pieces together, it's not an altogether bad comedy. Mostly. And despite the actor and the character failing to combine, Jason Sudekis is the highlight of the film, with the best lines and the best delivery by far. Will Poulter puts in a good turn as his 'son', Kenny, but is limited by six writers all pulling in different directions. Jennifer Aniston and Emma Roberts suffer the same fate, but with the added disadvantage of having little-to-no character development to work with. Outside of 'The Millers', a few extra laughs (mostly those awkward, nervous ones) come from the addition of Kathryn Hahn and Nick Offerman's Fitzgerald family, a trio of repressed, conservative fellow RV'ers. Unfortunately, even the best of their scenes is underscored by that feel of blatant ad-libbing*1, which lets down their otherwise solid performances.
Listen to me, banging on like any of this shit even matters when you've got Jennifer Aniston in her pants. Twice. Actually, the very thing that's been the cornerstone of marketing this film turns out to be the one that's the most squirm-inducing. I'm not doubting that she's got the looks and the moves to carry it off, but there's something… undignified about the scenes with Jen in her scanties. I'm not sure why exactly, but I think that she's capable of better things than this. It never gets to exploitative-level, but you get the feeling that with any other actress, it would have.
Listen to me, banging on like any of this shit even matters when all you want to is watch a lairy comedy with your friends and a few beers. And that's exactly what We're The Millers is for; perfectly reasonable for viewing at home, not so much for paying a tenner each to do it in a cinema. Apart from anything else, the quiet isolation of the auditorium did leave me thinking "erm, that is not the dressing room of a downtown Denver strip club" and "erm, that is not the apartment of a drug-dealer, no matter how principled he apparently is" and "Wow, Emma Roberts basically got paid for turning up and standing in the background, didn't she?"
Ultimately, We're The Millers is consistently chucklesome, but the gags are on a separate track from the rest of a disjointed screenplay. Unless you're smitten with Aniston, you can safely put this in your rental queue.
Pretty much.
The laughing part was mostly satisfactory.
Not a clue. Probably, I imagine.
DVD. Rental tops, but this has got an Asda '£3' sticker written all over it..
Nah.
At some point, but not in a hurry.
There isn't, no.
How long do you think it took to film the segments featuring Ed Helms? I reckon two days, tops.
*1 You've seen this with Melissa McCarthy and Danny McBride. It's that desperate, panicked look in their eyes where they've gone off script, stalled for too long and then said 'fuck' or 'vagina', hoping this will pass as a punchline.
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
Despite my modus operandi of not reading reviews before watching a movie at the cinema, intel had reached me that Wanderlust wasn't all it could be. So naturally this was on my mind as I sat in a darkened auditorium with only four other people, and waited for the jokes to start. It was quite a wait.
The Plot: A perma-busy New York couple, George and Linda, stumble upon a hippy commune, and decide to try living there to escape the rat-race. Full of whacky characters, when their lifestyles collide, hilarity ensues! Oh, wait...
It's not that Wanderlust is horrendously bad, per se, it's just not particularly good. This isn't unusual for a first-quarter comedy release, but with Paul Rudd and Alan Alda on board, it's borderline unforgiveable. Almost everyone starring in this is capable of so much better, but especially those two. Jennifer Aniston and Paul Rudd are amiable enough leads, but since they're both essentially straight-men, it falls on the inhabitants of the 'Intentional Community' to provide the gags. They try. Mostly.
Now, imagine some comedy-hippies. Well done, you've just written half of the film. I'm aware that stereotypes arise because they're usually true, but the secondary characters in Wanderlust are simultaneously over-written yet completely one-dimensional. Alda's commune-founder, Carvin, is the only one who's vaguely interesting, but the part isn't enough for him to do anything with.
Outside of the cardboard characters, the film is produced by Judd Apatow, and manages to have his fingerprints all over it without leaving any trace of his charm (no, really). It's not lewd enough to be gross-out, but not touching enough to have any emotional depth. It doesn't have enough gags to be a rollicking-laugh-a-minute, but not enough plot to make an engaging story. wanderlust feels like the second-draft of a screenplay that got filmed accidentally, and everyone was too embarrassed to say anything.
I know I shouldn't look into this too deeply, but the overriding message of the film seems to be that the hippy-commune is a flawed idea, and what everyone really needs to make them Happy™ is a little bit of good ol'fashioned capitalism. Then again, minor plot points in here are so ludicrous that ideas like messages and character development have been pretty much left aside.
Despite all that, Wanderlust is frequently chucklesome, but if you're expecting people to throw down the best part of a tenner to watch it, that's not enough.
The Good: Jennifer Aniston hopping around in her Daisy Dukes. Rudd's sex-talk scens are pretty funny too, but you can tell that's improvised and has little to do with the script.
The Bad: The expectation you feel looking at the cast list.
The Ugly: A movie hasn't been this predictable since Titanic.
Worth £8+? Fuck, no. You're going to feel shortchanged if you buy it on DVD for a fiver...
Must try harder. It's not godawful enough to warrant a 2, but there's little of interest here.
DISCLAIMERS: • ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
Horrible Bosses plays and expands on the fear of a large percentage of working men steadily approaching middle age in a dead-end job:being sexually harassed by Jennifer Aniston.
The Plot: Three buddies decide to kill their a-hole bosses. The trailer sums it up as neatly as the title:
So. This film seems to have been named and marketed by an 11yr old. Hiding behind an awful, awful title is a very passable (if by-the-numbers) buddy-com/farce. As is usual with this type of b-list mancom, I went in with low expectations; as is rare, I was pleasantly surprised.
It's got him that you know out of Arrested Development and Paul, him whose name you can't quite remember out of Hall Pass, and another one you haven't seen before but does a high voice and that's quite funny. It's also got Jennifer Aniston starring in the kind of role that men people have been praying for for about 15 years.
Clichés aside, this is a good film. It's consistently funny with no slow patches, and the (infrequent) swearing all works in context. On that basis, it's already better than most comedies I've seen this year. In all honesty, there's very little else to say. The film does dip seriously into farce-territory, but that's one of its strengths, particularly from an American production. The deadpan performances from Jason Bateman, Jason Sudekis and Kevin Spacey all complement this excellently. Jamie Foxx is also on great form as an opportunist murder consultant film geek (which appealed to me greatly).
Nothing in the film feels hugely different or outstanding, and it's not a must-see in the cinematic sense; but with some friends and a few drinks, this is a solidly entertaining film. Way better than many this year. If you're a fan of Jason Bateman or Jennifer Aniston, you'll want to see this.
Watch it with some mates and some beer, and you won't go far wrong.
DISCLAIMERS: • ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organizations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
