MY MOVIE SHELF: The Hangover

 

The Task: Watch and write about every movie on my shelf, in order (Blu-rays are sorted after DVDs), by June 10, 2015.  Remaining movies: 84 Days to go: 57

Movie #356:  The Hangover

Largely touted as the funniest movie of the century when it was released, The Hangover was never really as laugh-out-loud funny to me as it was to other people. (That is not to say I didn’t laugh. It’s a funny movie; I laughed. I just didn’t laugh until I cried and/or peed or whatever. It’s not that funny.) However, it does hold up exceptionally well to multiple viewings.

The strength of The Hangover, for me, is not that it’s this groundbreaking new comedy of never-before-seen levels of hilarity — we’ve all seen jokes about wild, drunken nights before — it’s that the film is excellently structured, thus presenting jokes about a wild, drunken night in a new way. (This only works one time, though, which is why both sequels are essentially the exact same film, shot for shot, and why neither one of them is anywhere near as good.)

The movie starts out with your typical bachelor party preparations. You have your good-natured groom Doug (Justin Bartha), being taken to Vegas for the night by his two best friends — irresponsible teacher and posturing asshole complaining about the evils of marriage and bitchy women, Phil (Bradley Cooper) and completely hen-pecked, ball-less, snooty Stu (Ed Helms) — plus the bride’s misfit weirdo brother Alan (Zach Galifianakis). There is male-bonding over the great times to be had, there are predictions of how drunk everyone is going to get, and there is a celebratory toast to get them started. It’s all pretty run-of-the-mill, actually. And then that typical structure gets turned around completely.

“We lost Doug.” The jokes are pretty much in the same vein as countless others: Drunk guys do crazy shit! But the crazy shit is presented as a puzzle. Nobody remembers the stuff they did, because they were drugged and blacked out early in the evening. Not only that, but they have to remember, because they lost Doug and need to find him. So then the audience gets to take the ride with the trio of friends on their search for Doug, reconstructing the timeline as they go. And the movie really does up the ante on crazy shit drunk guys do, too. Some of it is expected in a Vegas movie (hospital visit, impromptu marriage to a stripper/hooker, being arrested, huge amounts of money won and lost), but a lot of it is taken to new extremes (the hooker’s baby, the dentist’s missing tooth, the tiger in the bathroom, the stolen police car, getting tased by schoolchildren, everything about Mike Tyson, and a tiny naked man with a crowbar jumping out of the trunk). Every chance it gets, it turns up the volume on how wild and out of control their night got, and then as a bonus, the movie bombards you with a bunch of pictures over the end credits to fill in the rest of the rowdy, raunchy details. It’s pretty freakin’ funny.

Of course, the end of the film reverts to your typical bachelor party gone wild story, as there’s a mad rush to Doug’s wedding, but The Hangover still offers up a few surprises. Like gigantic d-bag Phil actually being thoroughly, completely in love with his wife and son. Or the wildly inappropriate wedding singer (Dan Finnerty). And not for nothing, but it takes a tremendous amount of commitment and nerve to play the absolutely thankless, ball-busting role of Melissa that Rachel Harris embodies so fully. She is incredibly game, and I appreciate the hell out of her comedic guts.

I also want to shout out to a couple of the smaller roles in the film. Ken Jeong gets all the credit (and the stupid sequels) because he’s so fearless and batshit insane, but Heather Graham is awesome as Jade. I’ve always really liked her goofiness, and I think it’s a big strength of hers, not just a quirk. Her wedding photos with Stu, and the way she interacts with him, as well as the totally spastic way she falls out of her chair at the blackjack table are perfect examples of that and some of my favorite parts of the film. Another underrated performer is Cleo King, the partner of Rob Riggle’s Officer Franklin. Again, he’s paid all the attention, but her belly laughs and stern lectures are opposite ends of the same stick of pure joy she brings to the table. I could watch her for hours.

I actually have watched her for hours, in the aggregate, considering how many times I’ve seen The Hangover at this point. I mean, it’s on TV all the time. It holds up really well, though, and that’s nothing to sneeze at. Just skip the sequels.

 

 

MY MOVIE SHELF: Scream 2

The Task: Watch and write about every movie on my shelf, in order (Blu-rays are sorted after DVDs), by June 10, 2015.  Remaining movies: 196  Days to go: 138

Movie #242:  Scream 2

“There are certain rules that one must abide by in order to create a successful sequel. Number one: the body count is always bigger. Number two: the death scenes are always much more elaborate – more blood, more gore – carnage candy. And number three: never, ever, under any circumstances, assume the killer is dead.”

That was Randy (Jamie Kennedy), back again as our horror movie aficionado, describing the ways in which Scream 2 will be harder-better-faster-stronger than the original. It’s a sequel, see, and sequels have rules too. But once again, while the Scream films abide by the rules, they also uproot them.

It’s two years since the Woodsboro killing spree of Billy and Stu, and our intrepid reporter Gale Weathers (Courteney Cox) has written a book that’s been turned into a movie called Stab, with Tori Spelling playing Sidney Prescott (Neve Campbell), just like Sidney sarcastically predicted in Scream. In an ever-growing attempt to change the boundaries of the horror genre, the movie starts with cameos by Jada Pinkett Smith (pre-Smith) and Omar Epps as Maureen and Phil, Windsor College students out for the night with free passes to an advanced screening of Stab. They simultaneously mock and thwart the lack of African-American representation in horror flicks, only to get brutally murdered in the movie theater (in which Heather Graham is like a naked Rollergirl — she will always be Rollergirl — version of Drew Barrymore’s Casey). (Luke Wilson, it is revealed later, is the movie’s Billy. He has laughably exaggerated bangs in an attempt to mock good old Skeet.) Instantly, the movie tells you the volume has been turned up, and it’s not backing off.

Our next victim comes in the form of Cici (Sarah Michelle Gellar), another random cameo part given to a big named star for the sole purpose of dying a gruesome death. Sequels really are something.

We also have Jerry O’Connell as Sidney’s new boyfriend Derek, because apparently Sidney hasn’t considered lesbianism yet, Timothy Olyphant as another movie guy named Mickey, Elise Neil as Sidney’s roommate Hallie , Duane Martin as Gale’s new cameraman Joel who did not read her book before he took this job, Laurie Metcalf as small town reporter Debbie Salt, Rebecca Gayheart and baby Portia de Rossi as ditzy sorority girls, and even Joshua Jackson shows up pre-Dawson’s Creek. And returning for another time around are Cotton Weary (Liev Schreiber) looking for a little fame and fortune to make up for being falsely accused and convicted of murder — how about that Diane Sawyer interview, Sidney? “Consider it done.” — and Deputy Dewey (David Arquette) rescued from the edge of death in the last film but with significant loss of movement due to nerve damage from his injuries.

Just as Randy says, the deaths are bigger and grosser and there are lots more of them. The scope is more epic, the motives more elaborate and yet more simple. It actually does a really great job of employing the creative mythos of Scream and turning it up to 11. I wouldn’t say it’s better than the original, but it’s quite good. Maybe it’s really more of the second installment of a trilogy ….