by George Wolf
Horrible Bosses 2
After trying to kill your boss and getting away with it, the sensible career choice is clearly self employment. That’s the plan for the three bumbling schemers in Horrible Bosses 2, a film with scattershot hilarity that can’t quite match the success of the original.
Nick, Kurt and Dale (Jason Bateman, Jason Sudeikis and Charlie Day, respectively) have a great new plan for business success and surprise, it’s legal! Their new “shower buddy” invention looks promising, so all the guys need now is a big investor, and their days of working for someone else will be history.
Things look good when business tycoon Bert Hansen (Christoph Waltz) puts in a big order, but when he pulls out and leaves the boys high and dry, their criminal minds take over. After an inspired brainstorming session, they decide to kidnap Hansen’s obnoxious son Rex (Chris Pine) and hold him ransom for a payback payday.
Hard to believe, but the plan goes quickly sideways, and to stay ahead of the law and out of the morgue, the boys turn to some old friends: Nick’s former boss (Kevin Spacey), Dale’s sexual harasser (Jennifer Aniston) and the trusted criminal adviser “MF” Jones (Jamie Foxx).
Most of the original writing team is back for the sequel, but their script is lighter on laughs and heavier on convention, relying on the cast to just squeeze out laughs whenever they can. With this cast, that’s a safer bet than most. Bateman, Sudeikis and Day are flat out funny, and their wonderful chemistry is anchored by flawless timing that is just a kick to watch.
The supporting trio of Foxx, Aniston and Spacey is nearly as good, and Pine blends in nicely with the stable of returning castmates. Only Waltz seems out of place, his usual greatness wasted in a very limited role.
You know that crazy uncle you still invite over for Thanksgiving because, even though he can be offensive and tedious, he’s still funny and likeable?
That’s Horrible Bosses 2.
Pass the peas (and stay for the credits).
Penguins of Madagascar
This movie may well provide the cure for seasonal affective disorder. What’s not to love? Adorable animated baby penguins? Check. John Malkovich playing a demented doctor octopus? Check. Nonstop action? Check. Ridiculous puns? Check. Werner Herzog and Benedict Cumberbatch? Check.
Penguins of Madagascar was an almost perfect hour and a half of zany fun.
(I say almost perfect only because Cumberbatch was drawn as a wolf and not, more appropriately, as an otter.)
The film follows the adventures of the four beloved penguins from the Madagascar franchise. Trapped inside a vending machine full of Cheezy Dibbles, they are kidnapped by Malkovich’s Dave the Octopus—a formerly adored aquatic attraction bumped from zoo to zoo in favor of the lovable antics of Antarctica’s flightless waddlers.
Rejection has taken its toll. Dave, now bent on revenge, has concocted a serum that will mutate the squee little penguins into monsters.
Joined by a secret interspecies task force, the North Wind (led by Cumberbatch’s Agent Classified); Skipper, Kowalski, Rico, and Private take on Dave and his army of octopi henchmen and attempt to preserve cuteness as we know it.
If you are looking for a way to entertain the kiddos for 90 minutes this holiday weekend while avoiding a turkey-induced coma yourself, this is a fantastic option.
The Theory of Everything
If there is one thing that The Theory of Everything should convince you to do, it is this: Get to know Eddie Redmayne.
He is a magnificent, chameleonic actor who has found a way to bring humanity to roles as varied as that of a matricidal son, a suicidal homosexual teen, a socially awkward hick, a deeply conflicted witch hunter, and a love-struck baritone in post-revolution France. And now he will finally be known – and likely Oscar nominated – for his subtle, authentic and moving portrait of Stephen Hawking.
Redmayne is the reason to see this film. It’s a remarkable performance at the heart of a decent but not exceptional film.
Based on Jane Hawking’s second memoir, the film begins as a young doctoral student falls for a medeival poetry major and, despite the death sentence of a medical diagnosis, marries. While Anthony McCarten’s adaptation retains the struggles and failings in the marriage, director James Marsh can’t find the passion or urgency the story needs.
The problem is certainly not his cast. Alongside Redmayne, Felicity Jones offers a tender, thoughtful performance, and the supporting players turn in solid work as well. But their relationships, passions and drama are all kept too tidy and too subdued.
Marsh, whose previous films – documentaries, in particular – have proven to be honest, impish and fascinating – can’t seem to find his footing. Where his approach in previous work has always felt fresh, here he makes safe choices at every turn. Aside from an odd, fish-eye close up here and there, nothing about his telling of this extraordinary life ever feels daring.
The science itself is minimized to the point of near nonexistence, making the only examined aspects of the Hawkings’ story that of her love and his physical disability. And even that feels slight.
It’s a gorgeous film to watch, with lush but muted colors, manicured lawns and relentlessly clean sidewalks, hallways and college students. Marsh’s framing is always truly lovely. And Jones and Redmayne exhibit a deep connection that allows their characters’ struggles to feel poignantly real.
There is much to applaud in The Theory of Everything, but there should have been more.
Get more of my reviews at MaddWolf.com!