High-brow Nepalese films about yak herders are more at home to tightly structured plot. They just drive around their awful neighbourhood and allow various pointedly unamusing things to happen. Perhaps Sandler, Kevin James, David Spade and Chris Rock will find a suitcase of money and squabble themselves into paranoid lunacy. All manner of events can kick off a nail biting incident in. Maybe the four idiot friends and their four idiot wives will be forced to spend time in a haunted house. From emergencies at sea to disasters at the barbecue from children being trapped on a cliff face to adults being stranded in the fog. Grown Ups 2 plays like the result of an experiment to discover if it is possible to write a film in less time than it takes to watch the finished entity. You have no conception of their vaulting ambitions in the field of conspicuous underachievement. In short, you probably think you know how low the film-makers are prepared to sink. The first film (in what I dearly pray will not become a trilogy) also introduced us to a take on family life that tries to reconcile utter conformity with a rampant disgust at the compromises that marriage and childrearing require. The Neanderthal sexual politics will also be familiar to Grown Ups veterans: a scene during which the girls ogle a fitness instructor makes it “okay” for their husbands to leer disgustingly at a lithe dancer. It will come as no great surprise, for example, that the film begins with a moose urinating in Adam Sandler’s face (not very funny, but certainly deserved). If you’ve seen the original Grown Ups (a particularly large hit here in Ireland), then you may be prepared for the baseness of the exercise. But we are willing to bet that no human being possesses the imaginative power to sufficiently lower his or her expectations to anticipate the sheer laziness of this putrid ensemble comedy. Here at The Ticket we try to avoid underestimating our distinguished readership.
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