Bangkok Atrocious

Cine Review: THE HANGOVER PART II
15 – 102mins – 2011
Written by: Scot Armstrong, Craig Mazin, Todd Philips
Directed by: Todd Philips
Starring: Bradley Cooper, Ed Helms, Zach Galifianakis, Justin Bartha, Ken Jeong, Mason Lee, Paul Giamatti, Jamie Chung, Nirut Sirijanya
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Back in the swirling mists of time – well, 18months ago to be precise – I published a pithy paragraph long review of what many critics were proclaiming the “funniest film of the year”: The Hangover (travel back to the early days of The CR@B Shack by clicking on this ‘ere LINK). I disagreed. It wasn’t so much that I hated the stag party misadventures of Phil (Cooper), Stu (Helms) and Alan (Galifianakis), simply that, after all the hype, it wasn’t the funniest film of 2009; merely chucklesome at best. I awarded it an average 3/5.

Inevitably with any box office smash, the studio saw dollar signs and a sequel was promptly green lit, imaginatively called The Hangover Part II (wouldn’t Another Hangover have been catchier?), to be released at the tail end of May this year. I decided to give it a chance, hoping a second dose of inane drunken misfortune would up the ante of the first and deliver heartier laughs. After sold out screenings and a Rod Stewart concert (see HERE) foiled my attempts to attend a screening, last night The Hangover Part II finally caught up with me – and boy was my head sore!

Not because I laughed so much it hurt, sadly, or because I drank myself into oblivion in some sort of ridonkulous homage to the onscreen action, waking this morning unable to remember a thing about what I had witnessed (although part of me wishes I had). No, dear readers, my head hurt because I was so utterly dumbfounded by what was playing on the cinema screen in front of me.

Shifting the action from Las Vegas to Thailand , Todd Philips' much anticipated sequel is otherwise content simply to give its audience more of the same - even down to an awkward scene in an elevator! On an impromptu stag night prior to Stu’s marriage to Lauren (Chung), the self-proclaimed Wolfpack wake up after what was meant to be “one beer on the beach” with a chain smoking capuchin monkey, a severed finger and returning hyperactive gangster Leslie (Community’s zanily irreverent Jeong) in a dirty Bangkok hotel room.

To make matters worse, Alan’s head has been shaved, groom-to-be Ed is emblazoned with a Mike Tyson-riffing, copyright-infringing (seriously) facial tattoo, his fiancée’s younger brother – teen genius Teddy (Lee) – is missing, and no-one has a clue what the hell happened on the preceding evening. Cue an hour and a half of escalating madness as the oddball gang attempt to piece together clues and retrace their steps to track down Teddy and make it to the wedding on time.

It’s an outrageous and barmy escapade to be sure, as the Wolfpack are shot at by Russian drug dealers, threatened by a mobster (a refreshing cameo by Giamatti), beaten by mute monks (!!) and follow infinite false leads before they come to the conclusion that maybe Teddy hadn’t travelled quite as far as they first thought (deja vu much?). Alas, the ludicrous is also intermingled with the raunchy and outright offensive – a strip club of Lady-boys whom Ed had drunken anal sex with being a definite moral low – resulting in a lot of grown men shrieking incessantly as their celebration turns increasing dark and distasteful.

My main bone of contention lies with clueless simpleton Alan, whose brainlessness and social naivety veers from ignorance to mentally unsound throughout. I just didn’t find him at all funny and I question how anyone can laugh at a man so inherently unlikeable: he isn’t simply the friend who faux pas’ to the point of embarrassment – he’s a dangerous prescription pill-popping lunatic who’s completely oblivious to his own erroneous actions and I found nothing to like about him.


In a CR@B Shell: After a night as wildly calamitous as their trip to Vegas, the Wolfpack should have declared “never again” – and so should co-writer/director Todd Philips, who has delivered a nigh on duplicate disaster in The Hangover Part II, albeit one which leaves an even more unpleasant taste in the mouth.
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"Special" Interest

DVD Review: DINNER FOR SCHMUCKS
12 – 114mins – 2010
Screenplay by: David Guion, Michael Handelman
Based on Le Dîner de Cons, written by: Francis Veber
Directed by: Jay Roach
Starring: Steve Carell, Paul Rudd, Zach Galifianakis, Jermaine Clement, Stephanie Szostak, Lucy Punch, David Walliams, Kristen Shaal, Bruce Greenwood
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Bandwagon-jumping, idea-nabbing Hollywood remakes of cult foreign language films are always at risk of missing the je ne sais quoi which made the originals so exceptional, more interested are they in racking up the A-list stars and splashing the budget on extravagant spectacle. But Jay Roach’s adaptation of Francis Veber's Le Dîner de Cons (1998) was in particular danger of falling flat on its identity-stealing face, given the delicate nature of the French flick’s farcical comedy.

If screenwriters David Guion and Michael Handelman were too gentle on the mean-spirited jibes they would be accused of undercooking the ludicrously disreputable premise, but if they went too far with the pointing and laughing they would tout controversy for picking on easy targets. Consequently, they served up a Dinner which was neither too hot or too cold; playing up the weirdness factor for easy laughs, but downplaying the discrimination by making everyone a schmuck.

Paul Rudd plays mild-mannered Tim, a promotion-desperate business man who is invited to a corporate dinner with a difference. Each employee must bring a “special” guest to the company’s annual “Dinner for Winners”, in a bid to impress the snootily bourgeois executives with the biggest buffoon they can find. See, I wasn’t joking when I used the words “ludicrously disreputable” and “mean-spirited”.

Enter Date Night’s Steve Carell as timid IRS agent Barry, a bespectacled, dead-mouse-diorama-making easy target in an anorak and slacks. A man who – for all his most well-meaning intentions – leaves a trail of utter chaos in his wake. Tim believes Barry is the perfect guest to help him win promotion from his vile, bullying boss (Bruce Greenwood), but over the course of the next 24 hours, simpleton Barry first dismantles Tim’s life, then wins him over with his kind heart and naïve virtuosity.

Predictably, the tasteless dinner provides the menagerie of “idiotic” guests – a blind fencer, a vulture lover, a pet psychic, a beard-growing champion – a chance to turn the tables on the sniggering bigots who look down on them. But for all of the over-the-top absurdities which befall the hapless characters, Carell evokes a sympathetic light on sad sap Barry, and you never catch yourself laughing at him, only with. As such, Dinner of Schmucks never offends like it might so easily have done, with every character coming off as unhinged as any other.

On a final note, the film's comedic cast is particularly remarkable, given its eccentric mixture of cross-Atlantic talent, with Rudd, Carell and The Hangover's Zach Galifianakis rubbing shoulders with the UK's very own David Little Britain Walliams, Chris The IT Crowd O'Dowd and Lucy Vexed Punch. French-born cutie Stephanie Szostak and New Zealand's Jermaine Clements continue the multi-culturally flavoured platter, while the latter's wide-eyed Flight of the Conchords co-star Kristin Shaal also makes a foreseeably kooky turn. But then kooky is the dish of the day at this Dinner.


In a CR@B Shell: Sympathy replaces cruelty in this lightweight remake which revels in its zany ensemble of Schmucks and makes fools of us all, so at least we don't feel quite so guilty about having a giggle.
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