The Hangover Part 3 is an incredibly funny experience when you
think about the fact that you actually pulled out notes of your hard earned money
from your wallet for a film that literally reaches out to your face, slaps it
hard, lunges in your pocket, pulls out your cash and gives you a wedgie. But
unless you’re accustomed to seeing the funnier side of things in a daylight
robbery, this film will make you poorer both financially and emotionally.
Director Todd Phillips, clearly
not content with the unfunniness of The
Hangover Part 2 returns for a third time and finally achieves what he hoped
for – a giant explosion of humorlessness. The lack of humor is so powerful here
that even Zach Galifianakis looks like he doesn’t give a single molecule of
goat ordure – he actually becomes the character from his show ‘Between two
ferns’. The plot was sort of novel when the first film came out in 2009,
repeating the same gags for the third time plays out like a drunk standup comedian
pulling out a railway platform joke book and reciting its contents.
This time the action shifts to Arizona
and Mexico – the wolf pack (Galifianakis, Helms, Cooper, Bartha) is nabbed by a
crime lord (John Goodman) and tasked with extracting $20 million of stolen
money from an absconding Chow (Ken Jeong). Now the problem here is Jeong was
hilarious in his bizarre bit part in the original film, giving a full film to
him makes him significantly less interesting as he just doesn’t have the
comedic chops. Moreover, the protagonists aren’t really very likable – it was
fun to see the buffoons suffering for their stupidity in part one, it’s difficult
to root for them when they’re in trouble here. Their lines this time are also
simply crass, not the least bit funny and there’s plenty of graphic nudity to
imply some sort of comedy.
The only salvation is the
hilarious Melissa McCarthy as a pawn shop owner who should actually have been
given all of Jeong’s screen time. The film is shot very well, but crediting an
unfunny comedy for its cinematography is like admiring the impeccable bell
around the bull in the China shop. It all ends with a predictable, drunken
night with the threat of a fourth part, and you’ll only wish for a gigantic
bottle to make you forget about the whole thing.
(First published in MiD Day)
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