Why Him? (2016)

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Her spine meets the arch of her tailbone and I want to pitch a tent and live in there. Tech millionaire Laird Mayhew (James Franco) introduces himself to the print-business owner father Ned (Bryan Cranston) of his Stanford student girlfriend Stephanie (Zoey Deutch) by flashing him over Skype on the older man’s 55th birthday. Invited to celebrate Christmas in California Stephanie takes her family to her boyfriend’s modernist mansion where the tattooed ignoramous bro hugs everyone, says everything that is inappropriate (likes Mom Megan Mullally rather overtly, charms little brother Griffin Gluck) and introduces Ned to a newly constructed bowling alley decorated with his image. He is just too much. And as for his assistant Gustav (Keegan-Michael Key) who does a Cato/Clouseau act with Laird which neither recognises when Ned understands the obvious reference… But when Laird asks Ned for his blessing in marriage to Stephanie he oversteps horrifically and it doesn’t end there … From a story by Jonah Hill, this was co-written by Ian Helfer and director John Hamburg and works both as (actual) lavatory humour (a huge plot point) and Silicon Valley satire (listen to what the poor intern says) while overtly reworking the story of Father of the Bride as it negotiates the problems a dad might have with a boor screwing his daughter on a table while he’s hiding underneath Get past the foul-mouthed quasi-autistic socially awkward techno savant fatherless antagonist and enjoy Cranston’s facial expressions which were made for just such a hellish but amusing meeting of bizarrely attuned minds in this generational bromance clash where it would appear both men are hiding problems with the state of their very different businesses. Mullally gets a chance to do what she does best too while you might recognise Zack Pearlman, Adam Devine and Andrew Rannells from The Intern which makes this rather meta. Definitely for fans of the band Kiss! (And Elon Musk…) A Christmas movie with a difference.

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Snatched (2017)

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I worship Goldie Hawn. Foul Play is on constant rotation chez moi. After a terrible 15 year break, she’s back, playing Amy Schumer’s mother. I use those words with caution because in one phrase I have alienated Goldie fans and realise that Schumer fans may not even know who Hawn is. Schumer is dumped by her boyfriend in a scene that is excruciating for all the wrong reasons – too long, badly written, overly expository and revelatory of one crucial fact:  Schumer cannot act. Then after social media intervention by her mom who lives with three rather cool cats  (Andrew, Arthur and Philip) she goes home because she has non-refundable tickets for a holiday to Ecuador and nobody will go with her. Turns out there’s an autistic/agoraphobe/nerd brother (Ike Barinholtz) resident too. After more, long, excruciating, badly written scenes, we fetch up with Goldie and Amy in a luxury resort in Ecuador. Amy wants to have sex with an Aussie adventurer (Tom Bateman) but he’s just keen to bring her on a day out. She brings mom too and they’re kidnapped. There are a few funny bits – Amy has the classic millennial reaction to being parted from her smartphone;  she ends up killing someone with a spade (“Are you sure?” she asks Goldie; “I saw his brains,” Goldie deadpans in response);  they partner up with an Indiana Jones-wannnabe jungle guide (Christopher Meloni) who turns out to be a total phony with a week to live (a bit less, actually); the complete lack of interest from the State Dept.; and there’s a tribute to Alien with a massive tapeworm.  But… there’s the brother’s subplot with the State Dept. And don’t get me started on the bewildering squandering of Wanda Sykes and a mute Joan Cusack (mute! Joan Cusack MUTE!!!!) as a sidebar of handy Lesbian rescuers who just …. disappear in a manner that is literally the opposite of good characterisation and plotting . OMG. I lay most of the issues at writer Katie Dippold’s door:  the scenes are long, lazy and the episodes of (literal) toilet humour – playing to Schumer’s apparent strengths/demographic – are just vile. The story simply doesn’t make sense from scene to scene – and don’t ask me how it winds up in Colombia from Ecuador. I mean I understand South American kidnap and murder gangs don’t go through passport control, but …  Misdirected by Jonathan Levine. Schumer is morphing into Will Ferrell. I still love Goldie! Give her a better film!

The Boss (2016)

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Michelle Darnell is the orphan who grows up to be a big businesswoman – Melissa McCarthy, to be exact, whose rise to titanic success arouses jealousy and she’s framed for insider trading by her ex, villainous rival Peter Dinklage, going by the name Renault (formerly Ronald). When she gets out of the clink she reinvents her brand through her former employee Kristen Bell’s daughter by virtue of a takeover of the Dandelions, a charitable group of kids that sells brownies door to door – because Bell makes the best ones ever and Michelle sees a billion dollar a year business. One of the other mothers just sees a felon. Then Dinklage sees another business opportunity and a paradoxical way to get back with the only woman he’s ever loved … Co-written by McCarthy with husband and director Ben Falcone (who also produces with her) and Steve Mallory, this trades on the star’s great ability to play a scene and there are some excellent laugh out loud moments. However subtle it ain’t and the lapses in taste prevent it being in the same league as something like Bad News Bears which it weirdly recalls (maybe it’s the kids’ uniforms). Co-produced by Will Ferrell, Adam McKay and Chris Henchy, this is just not up to the standard of Spy which was so subversive, satirical and, yes, smart. This manages to be too long and too short and enjoyable and a waste of talent all at once:  is it me?!

Bad Neighbours 2 (2016)

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Aka Neighbours 2:  Sorority Rising.  They’re back! Well, everyone’s gone and grown up. Sort of. Opening on a horribly vomitous sex scene, Seth Rogen and Rose Byrne realise they’re having another baby. They’re trying to sell their house and it’s in escrow now which they do not understand even when the realtor tries to explain. All they know is their toddler daughter keeps playing with a pink dildo in front of people. Meanwhile, Zac Efron’s bestie Dave Franco is getting married. To a guy. So he has to move out of their place and has nowhere to go – except back to the old frat house, where some bolshie girls led by Chloe Grace Moretz want to set up an alt-sorority so they can party righteously. He mentors them until they dump him while he’s lecturing them (they do it on their phones). So he teams up with Seth and Rose to get rid of the girls in order that their house sale goes through. There ensues … total mayhem! Screamingly funny, flat out gross out, hilarious, physical, bad taste comedy. Five buckets of money, that’s all you need. For anything! Party on, rad dudettes! Written by Seth Rogen, Evan Goldberg, Andrew Jay Cohen, Brendan O’Brien and director Nicholas Stoller.

How To Be Single (2016)

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What is marriage? No more spontaneous sex, no more travelling alone, no more being able to buy stuff without asking permission. That’s not my opinion (well….) that’s the bartender Tom (Anders Hom) with the hard-on who has no-strings sex with Alice (Dakota Johnson) when she takes a break from her long-term boyfriend – and then discovers he’s got a new girlfriend and she’s really single. (Tom probably knows because he cheated when he was married to Anne Hathaway in The Intern.)  This comedy about bedhopping in NYC is adapted by Abby Kohn & Marc Silverstein and Dana Fox,  from Liz Tuccillo’s novel of the same name. And if you recognise her moniker then you’ve obviously seen it on the writing credits of Sex and the City and you might even have read He’s Just Not That Into You, which she c0-wrote. This isn’t so much Alice Through the Looking Glass as Alice Through the Bottom of a Glass After One Way Too Many because she parties like it’s 1999 with the hardest partyer in town, fellow paralegal Robin (Rebel Wilson), a crazy ass wild girl who sleeps around, drugs, dances and has the best hangover cure I’ve ever seen. Johnson is effectively straight man to comic tornado Wilson and her strangeness is squared against the likeable Aussie who (obv) has all the best lines, delivered in her familiar deadpan style. I can’t work out if Johnson is very authentic with great technique or a non-actress with no technique whatsoever. She bears no discernible resemblance to either of her superfamous parents, or her grandmother, for that matter. Alice is rooming with her older sister Meg (Leslie Mann) a lonely OB/GYN who’s delivered 3,000 babies plus their mothers’ waste products and doesn’t EVER want to be pregnant or have a baby – until she does, and opts for a sperm donor and IVF. She starts to date Ken (Jake Lacy) the new receptionist at Alice’s office because now she’s pregnant she’s horny but he might be okay because he was the good guy in Christmas With the Coopers. She just doesn’t want him to know she’s with child. Back at the bar, Tom is happy to help out Lucy (Alison Brie) who meets a series of useless men online and he pretends to be her boyfriend when a hen party of women she knows arrives and he saves her from yet another embarrassing encounter. Hey, he’s here to help. And have no-strings sex. This apparently feminist take on romcom wanders mildly around the usual tropes with somewhat atypical outcomes and its worth really resides in that female buddy pairing at its heart – with Brie and Mann (sounds like a cheese company) bringing up the rear. Much of it is about those age-old issues of compatibility, f**k buddies, friendship and sheer convenience over romance. There are some good seemingly throwaway truisms about your drink number (it’s a thing) and which holiday is the best to split up on. After an abortive relationship with property developer Damon Wayans who doesn’t want his kid to know her actual mother has died (tricky), Alison thinks her ex wants to get back with her, but Robin acccuses her of drowning in dicksand and sleeping with, you know, whoever happens along and says Alice doesn’t know who she really is. Their bust-up and the terms on which they get back together are the centre of the story which cuts through the sentiment with a narration telling us what being single is really being about – knowing how to like being alone. Aw, heck it’s Christmas. See it. With about 8 of your favourite bottles of beer. And without the local bartender. Let’s party! Directed by Christian Ditter.

Grimsby (2016)

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Aka The Brothers Grimsby. Where to start in this ode to Northern British scum? Liam Gallagher lookalike kebab-munching Nobby Butcher (Sacha Baron Cohen) keeps a tribute wall to the brother from whom he was separated 28 years earlier. It means as much to him as his football team in his awful council house where he’s shacked up with knickerless flatulent Dawn (Rebel Wilson), their 11 bastards and sundry grandchildren. He finds brother Sebastian (Mark Strong) at a London gathering for healthcare philanthropist Rhonda George (Penelope Cruz) and disrupts his work as a crack secret agent preventing an assassination, causing calamitous results including infecting Daniel Radcliffe with AIDS. They have to go on the run to protect Sebastian and go back home while MI5 boss Ian McShane unleashes ‘Chilcott’ (hmm!) on his black ops man turned supposed rogue agent, information helpfully supplied by Isla Fisher who’s hairless Sebastian’s on-off love interest. After some family bonding and flashbacks to their separation, the burst of post-Thatcher social realism amid the feral underclass shifts from one favela to another, in South Africa, where Nobby puts his daytime TV knowledge too good use, gets on down with the drug dealers (big up to LinkedIn!) and proves an idiot adept at the old spy game. The outrageous story complete with anal and phallic acts, animal abuse, defecation, fellatio, football hooligans, paedophilia, miscegenation, murders accidental and otherwise, takes place in a narrative of fraternal empathy, foster care, the World Cup, politics, eugenics and global germ warfare. And it’s literally jaw-droppingly tasteless, Jeremy Kyle Does James Bond, with a very large if flaccid and out-dated swipe at the kind of people who despise the shameless amoral creatures at its centre. I winced, I gasped and yes I did laugh on occasion:  more than I did during The Girl on the Train. And there is a suitably explosive ending. Plus an unnervingly up to date joke about a certain TV sleb turned US Presidential candidate. I do hope the elephants weren’t hurt as this action bomb lands on its footballs.Where to next for Baron Cohen? F**k knows, as he would undoubtedly say. Un film de Louis Leterrier.