The broken heart to new love arc is generic, but constant pops (flashes? see Peter’s hilarious naked confrontation with Sarah) of goofy humour keep the film feeling fresh and engaging throughout, never taking itself too seriously (see the failed symbolic cliff jump). Other highlights include the CSI parody (Crime Scene: Scene of the Crime), Paul Rudd’s surf instructor (“Oh, the weather outside is weather”), and McBrayer’s nervous new husband constantly cursing the confounding human anatomy.
“You look out of breath!” Tell me about it. “Well, it looks like you just watched a comedy where the jokes came with the frequency and intensity of a taut thriller.” You can say that again. “You look like you just watched a comedy where the jokes came with the frequency and intensity of a taut thriller.” Tell me about it. Poehler and Paul head up a pitch-perfect parody parade with endless energy, bite (“Whatthefuckareyousaying?”), and genuine chemistry on display. “Hey Joel?” Yeah? “Thanks.”
Yeah, I get it, comedy can be subjective, but with the way this film in particular is so endlessly creative and colourful and full of child-like wonder and fun in its quest for the laugh (which maybe could’ve been put on brief pause in Rod’s rock bottoms), I feel particularly called to shield it from from any big ol’ meanies who don’t like it. You do you, Hot Rod. Keep ringin’ those bells, jumpin’ those ramps, coolin’ those beans, singin’ those songs, and kickin’ that ass. You’re funny AF.
The key to this film’s success is that Brolin as a young Agent K is marvelous and has the same entertaining chemistry with Smith’s J as TLJ did. The future-past mash-up, meanwhile, adds both extra fun to the dynamic as well as hints of intriguing character work (“What happened to you man?”; see also the final reveal). Stuhlbarg’s manic Griffin and Clement’s delightfully over-the-top villain (see his hilarious interaction with his past self) are great secondary characters that fill things out.
A process server and his marijuana dealer wind up on the run from hitmen and a corrupt police officer after he witnesses his dealer’s boss murder a competitor while trying to serve papers on him. (IMDb)
A stoner and his dealer get caught up in a drug war and the comedy’s exactly what you’d expect–a combination of “that’s gotta hurt” slapstick (Red is the obvious champ in this area) and loud swear-laden and weed-infused riffs of dialogue. Doesn’t break much new ground but Franco’s dim Saul and Rogen’s straight man Dale have good chemistry and keep you engaged in spite of the mediocre plot. An uproarious improvised epilogue at the diner makes up for the over-the-top gun-happy climax.
Flint Lockwood now works at The Live Corp Company for his idol Chester V. But he’s forced to leave his post when he learns that his most infamous machine is still operational, and is churning out menacing food-animal hybrids. (IMDb)
Amped-up animation featuring the fantastically imaginative foodimals (the accompanying puns were a delight as well) keeps this thing afloat in spite of the generic and painfully predictable plot (the left-hanging dad neglect thread probably would have been more interesting; the environmentalist sub-theme that came to a head in another wacky climax certainly was). The main characters lost a little of their luster, but Chester V was a pretty funny addition (see his super bendy arms).
The “frustrated young adult failure with big dreams and a disapproving dad” opening act is generic, but sharp humour keeps it engaging (see Flint’s “saying what I’m doing!”) and a wild second half makes up for it, with its fantastically animated food action (see especially the meatball mission) and emotional climax (see dad, translated) as potent as the barrage of self-aware (“The disaster seems to be hitting all the major cities first”) and wacky (see macaroni head) hilarity leading up to it.
A sausage strives to discover the truth about his existence. (IMDb)
The puns are okay, but the creative anthropomorphic food premise is funniest in its extreme plays on humanity’s physical aspects; namely, death (see the flour shell-shock scene, kitchen massacre) and sex (see the outrageous ending orgy). It swings and misses everywhere else, moving from a promisingly hilarious opening musical number to a swear-overloaded script with nary a clever joke, and a religion-related thesis just as lacking in subtlety. The meta-ending also felt silly and unnecessary.
After young Riley is uprooted from her Midwest life and moved to San Francisco, her emotions – Joy, Fear, Anger, Disgust and Sadness – conflict on how best to navigate a new city, house, and school. (IMDb)
Numerous creative anthropomorphisms and objectifications of the mind entertain (room of abstract thought), intrigue (the idea of personified emotions controlling another person doesn’t always click but there is lots of potential–see the charming final glimpses into other minds), and move (the pit of forgotten memories, crumbling identity islands). Simple and sweet stories with nice messages on both levels lose a little bit of impact and depth of characterization by having to share screen time.
Two co-dependent high school seniors are forced to deal with separation anxiety after their plan to stage a booze-soaked party goes awry. (IMDb)
Hill’s uninhibited diatribes and Cera’s patented awkwardness highlight relatable high-school comedy here that soon explodes into a wildly eventful booze-filled, sex-inspired Friday night romp with hilarious one-off characters and a juicy side-plot featuring two drunk cops and the unforgettable “McLovin”. To the film’s added benefit, hints of mature teen-culture commentary are subtly laced throughout the raunchy humour, coming to the forefront in a surprisingly mellow and endearing final scene.