The one thing that offends me most about The Hangover: Part 2 is the title. Not the whole thing (I am partial to a hangover myself occasionally), just the Part 2 aspect. Almost as if Todd Phillips really believes that this is something more than it is, a larger, epic story arc that this movie is just a fraction of. The Godfather this ain't.
Before wading in here, I've got to say that I enjoyed the first film. It was funny, with funny characters, particularly Stu and Alan (Ed Helm and Zach Galifianakis), and as a massive fan of Las Vegas, I've got a bit of a soft spot for it. Admitedly, further viewings of the film have seen my enthusiasm and patience start to wane but all in all, it was a good comedy. I felt the need to qualify that because I wouldn't want my hatred of the second instalment to be misconstrued as a sense of humour failure.
The real problem with Part 2 is that it just isn't funny. I did not laugh once. Not even smiled. Fundamentally this is a problem for what is billed as a comedy. The same formula of the first film is applied to a different location, Bangkok. Phillips clearly thought that losing the same character, but somewhere else would be a stretch too far so instead we lose Stu's soon to be brother in law a couple of days before the wedding. The same three chaps wake up, Stu, Alan and Bradley Cooper's Phil, in a bad hotel room in Bangkok and have to put the pieces together.While the wake up scene in the first film was funny, unexpected and felt a little fresh, on this occasion we know it's coming and it feels immediately tired. We have all seen pictures of the face tattoo, it's on the poster, in fact there was even stuff in the press about Mike Tyson suing because of it (well done publicity department). So a joke that may have caught us off guard, has instead been bled to death before the film has even started.
And that's the problem with the whole film. The same jokes are used again, Todd Phillips and his 'writing' team, believing that the fact that we know what's coming next will be funnier than actual jokes. The baby is replaced by a drug dealing monkey (yes, I know, on paper it sounds funny but I assure you that the reality is not. In fact, the spying monkey in the first Indy film beats him hands down). Mr Chow (Ken Jeong) is back again through arguably the most tenuous plot line ever conceived, Stu's taste for ladies of the night (not vampires) crops up again, as does a Mike Tyson cameo.
The writers then seem to lose even more confidence in their ability to write a good joke and send us on a nonsensical action plot where Paul Giamatti turns up to collect some cash and leave me wondering what on earth he is up to. Car chases, gun fights, double crossing all take place, relentlessly smashing me in the face to the point where I was left feeling completely numb.
I can't even be bothered anymore to continue to tell you how awful The Hangover: Part 2 is. It's not funny, it's not entertaining, it's not a patch on the first film and it stinks of a sequel made solely with cash registers in mind. Having said that, if that was the aim, it's succeeded. And then some. Hollywood is after all a business and this film has taken £34 million (the 5th most this year) at the UK box office alone, despite it suffering awful reviews and being terrible. The truth is that because of the success and widespread enjoyment of the first film, the second film was always going to rake the cash in, it just would have been nice if someone actually paused and considered making something good.
During his recent press appearances for the DVD release of the film, Bradley Cooper has said that a third is on the way, and, hold the front page, it may have a new structure. What that deviation entails has yet to be seen, but it could be a bold move, and if they bother to write some jokes, it could make amends for this monstrosity. It could of course just be shite as well.
About Me
- Ollie Miney
- Lover of all things film, ready to tell you what to avoid, and more importantly, what to seek out.
Sunday 4 December 2011
Friday 2 December 2011
MY WEEK WITH MARILYN (2011 - Cert 15)
I blame Judy Garland. It's all her fault.
Let me explain. Five days before my first trip to the flicks in a while (to see Marilyn) I went to Richmond Theatre to see a play that had done the rounds all over the country and a stint in the West End. It was called End of the Rainbow and shared a few similarities with My Week With Marilyn, the main ones being that they both attempted to show us a different perspective on a top female icon of the last century (Rainbow being Judy Garland and Marilyn obviously being Marilyn Monroe). Both were also set in London, chronicling a small portion of their lives as they hit the UK for work (a run of concerts and a film respectively).
Before I turn this into a theatre blog though, I must first concentrate on Marilyn and why it simply didn't work for me. I think I can boil it down to one problem, boring characters. Quite a big problem and I know what you're saying, Marilyn Monroe, how can she and the the film possibly possibly be boring? I don't think it can be blamed on the actors, Michelle Williams in the case of Marilyn herself. She certainly looked the part and sounded the part. She even moved like her, she clearly must have studied a lot of footage of Monroe as it looked very authentic. However, because the character is written without any depth whatsoever, it becomes a very flat impersonation more than anything else. We are meant to think that Monroe is insecure, delicate, misunderstood, a tortured genius. This is portrayed by us enduring what are effectively bloopers on set as she struggles with her lines without the help of a touchy feel director. Then with the kind words from fellow actors she perks up a bit. That's it. That's what the writer (Adrian Hodges) thinks counts as characterisation. Perhaps it's to be expected from a writer of Primeval. He has managed to turn a 20th century icon, a goddess into a dull, boring, woman. Then there is the other main character, the 'My' of the title, Colin Clark (played by Eddie Redmayne). Again, perfectly decent performance but the character just wasn't interesting. Much of the film is him in rooms, being told useful information by other characters, without any real explanation as to why a third assistant director on the film (effectively a tea maker) has become everyone's confidant. It doesn't feel as though he is pushing his own narrative, he is a passenger in the whole piece, but he really should be a driver. It makes his character feel bland. This consequently meant that the relationship between he and Marilyn just didn't resonate with me, it didn't work, and most importantly, I didn't believe it. There was constantly a sense that they might not both live happily ever after together, but I ultimately didn't actually care.
The two dimensional nature continues elsewhere. A whole host of good actors, Judi Dench, Emma Watson, Dominic Cooper, Toby Jones, Dougray Scott, Derek Jacobi, even my mums friend Karl Moffatt (yes, I am name dropping) try their hardest with very limited material, all figures that don't feel essential to the story, more incidental and an excuse to get another big name in there on the cast list. Only Kenneth Branagh as Laurence Olivier comes out with any real credit and satisfactory screen time.
Another problem is that it's simply too nice, too polished, not daring enough. Monroe's drug problem is shown by jars of pills by the bed, arguments are muted with lots of arm waving, no real histrionics. It feels middle of the road, lacking any punch whatsoever. Like David Haye brushing you across the face with a small bean bag. You expect more, you want more, it just doesn't deliver.
So what did Judy Garland do wrong? Nothing, quite the opposite, but that's the problem. Because Rainbow was so good, I think she may have contributed to ruining My Week With Marilyn. Admittedly the subject matter of Rainbow is a little darker in tone (it builds up to Garland's premature death at the age of 47) but it was much more subtle in it's portrayal of a fragile star, much more affecting and so much more interesting. Had I not seen End of the Rainbow, or had it not been quite so good, perhaps I would have enjoyed Marilyn more, because it's not a terrible film, I've seen far worse, it's perfectly ok, a fluffy, good looking, mildly amusing way to pass an hour and a half. Unfortunately though, it's nothing more than that.
Let me explain. Five days before my first trip to the flicks in a while (to see Marilyn) I went to Richmond Theatre to see a play that had done the rounds all over the country and a stint in the West End. It was called End of the Rainbow and shared a few similarities with My Week With Marilyn, the main ones being that they both attempted to show us a different perspective on a top female icon of the last century (Rainbow being Judy Garland and Marilyn obviously being Marilyn Monroe). Both were also set in London, chronicling a small portion of their lives as they hit the UK for work (a run of concerts and a film respectively).
Before I turn this into a theatre blog though, I must first concentrate on Marilyn and why it simply didn't work for me. I think I can boil it down to one problem, boring characters. Quite a big problem and I know what you're saying, Marilyn Monroe, how can she and the the film possibly possibly be boring? I don't think it can be blamed on the actors, Michelle Williams in the case of Marilyn herself. She certainly looked the part and sounded the part. She even moved like her, she clearly must have studied a lot of footage of Monroe as it looked very authentic. However, because the character is written without any depth whatsoever, it becomes a very flat impersonation more than anything else. We are meant to think that Monroe is insecure, delicate, misunderstood, a tortured genius. This is portrayed by us enduring what are effectively bloopers on set as she struggles with her lines without the help of a touchy feel director. Then with the kind words from fellow actors she perks up a bit. That's it. That's what the writer (Adrian Hodges) thinks counts as characterisation. Perhaps it's to be expected from a writer of Primeval. He has managed to turn a 20th century icon, a goddess into a dull, boring, woman. Then there is the other main character, the 'My' of the title, Colin Clark (played by Eddie Redmayne). Again, perfectly decent performance but the character just wasn't interesting. Much of the film is him in rooms, being told useful information by other characters, without any real explanation as to why a third assistant director on the film (effectively a tea maker) has become everyone's confidant. It doesn't feel as though he is pushing his own narrative, he is a passenger in the whole piece, but he really should be a driver. It makes his character feel bland. This consequently meant that the relationship between he and Marilyn just didn't resonate with me, it didn't work, and most importantly, I didn't believe it. There was constantly a sense that they might not both live happily ever after together, but I ultimately didn't actually care.
The two dimensional nature continues elsewhere. A whole host of good actors, Judi Dench, Emma Watson, Dominic Cooper, Toby Jones, Dougray Scott, Derek Jacobi, even my mums friend Karl Moffatt (yes, I am name dropping) try their hardest with very limited material, all figures that don't feel essential to the story, more incidental and an excuse to get another big name in there on the cast list. Only Kenneth Branagh as Laurence Olivier comes out with any real credit and satisfactory screen time.
Another problem is that it's simply too nice, too polished, not daring enough. Monroe's drug problem is shown by jars of pills by the bed, arguments are muted with lots of arm waving, no real histrionics. It feels middle of the road, lacking any punch whatsoever. Like David Haye brushing you across the face with a small bean bag. You expect more, you want more, it just doesn't deliver.
So what did Judy Garland do wrong? Nothing, quite the opposite, but that's the problem. Because Rainbow was so good, I think she may have contributed to ruining My Week With Marilyn. Admittedly the subject matter of Rainbow is a little darker in tone (it builds up to Garland's premature death at the age of 47) but it was much more subtle in it's portrayal of a fragile star, much more affecting and so much more interesting. Had I not seen End of the Rainbow, or had it not been quite so good, perhaps I would have enjoyed Marilyn more, because it's not a terrible film, I've seen far worse, it's perfectly ok, a fluffy, good looking, mildly amusing way to pass an hour and a half. Unfortunately though, it's nothing more than that.
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