2.5 stars. Rated R, for pervasive crude and sexual content, relentless profanity, graphic nudity and drug references
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 3.27.15
If relentless vulgarity and
blithe racism, sexism and homophobia can be considered an art form, then I
guess Will Ferrell is a Rembrandt.
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| "Trapped" within the confines of the faux jail cell made from his own study, James (Will Ferrell, center) nervously awaits the moment when his house staff and grounds keeper will "pretend" to beat on him, prison-style, while Darnell (Kevin Hart, right) supervises. |
There may be a racial, gender or
religious faction left unsmeared by Ferrell’s newest foray into moron comedy,
but it’d be hard to determine who got left behind.
And, no doubt, that would have
been an oversight. I’m sure scripters Adam McKay, Jay Martel, Ian Roberts and
Etan Cohen — the latter also occupying the director’s chair — intended to be
equal-opportunity offensive.
Get Hard is typical Ferrell,
with the Saturday Night Live veteran swanning through yet another contrived
plot constructed around its boorish sight gags. By no means can what Ferrell
does be termed acting, since his entire persona is built around a naïve twit
alter-ego who cheerfully, unwittingly, insults and outrages everybody within
his orbit.
This gimmick has served him well
for 20 years, so I guess he sees no reason to change. And it could be argued
that viewer indignation and disgust are tempered by the fact that Ferrell works
hardest to make fun of himself. He clearly knows that his various screen
characters are ignorant, clueless boobs, and he revels in their boobishness.
Which, in a weird way, makes his
behavior more palatable.
A bit more palatable, anyway.
Because — as always is the case —
a little of Will Ferrell goes a long, long way, and 100 minutes of him in Get Hard might have
been difficult to endure ... were in not for the truly hilarious presence of
co-star Kevin Hart.
Frankly, Hart should get top
billing. He runs away with this film, stealing every scene he’s in, and he’s a
helluva lot funnier than Ferrell. Hart has the rhythmic physical grace,
streetwise savvy and impeccable comic timing of a young Eddie Murphy at his
prime: a vibrant screen presence that couldn’t be a more welcome alternative to
Ferrell’s insipid white-bread doofus.
The story, such as it is:
Hedge fund manager James (Ferrell)
is a golden boy who makes pots of money for himself, his company and its
founder, Martin (Craig T. Nelson). James lives in a loutishly ostentatious
mansion with his spoiled, gold-digging fiancée, Alissa (Alison Brie), who
happens to be Martin’s daughter. Everybody seems happy — in an entitled,
one-percentish way — aside from the estate’s eternally put-upon staff, who
silently endure James’ callous indifference.
Then, calamity: James is arrested
for insider trading, a supposed transgression that he genuinely knows nothing
about. Putting his faith in justice, he maintains his innocence during the
fastest trial in California history ... and winds up sentenced to 10 years’
hard labor in San Quentin. Terrified of what’ll happen to him in prison, and
given 30 days to put his affairs in order, James frantically searches for
somebody who can help “prepare” him for hard time.
And, naturally, fixes on Darnell
(Hart), who runs the modest basement firm that washes all the company cars
while their owners are making Wall Street history upstairs. This choice is made
solely because Darnell is black, and of course all black men have done jail
time.
To the script’s credit, Darnell
is allowed an appropriate level of righteous indignation. Truth is, he’s a
hard-working family man with a loving wife (Edwina Findley Dickerson, as Rita)
and an adorable daughter (Ariana Neal, as Makayla). But Darnell also is
ambitious, and needs seed money to make a go of his car-wash endeavor, and so
agrees to this preposterous proposal.
What follows is a case of the
blind leading the blind, since Darnell certainly has no experience from which
to draw. But he’s full of wild ’n’ crazy ideas, starting with a makeover of
James’ home, to create an ersatz jail cell (from the study) and prison yard
(the tennis court). James’ staff revels in the opportunity to abuse their boss,
as a means of toughening him up, but the cause is hopeless.
As the days pass, Darnell employs
increasingly dangerous tactics, such as trying to get James “protection” from,
alternatively, a posse of white supremacists, or the formidable Crenshaw Kings,
a black gang run by Russell (T.I. “Tip” Harris), who happens to be Darnell’s
cousin. The latter effort moves in a mildly amusing direction, in part due to
droll supporting turns from Ron Funches, as the gleefully homicidal JoJo, and
Joshua Joseph Gillum, as the equally dangerous Rico.
The film flounders in less
successful waters when Darnell decides that James’ only hope for prison
survival is to embrace homosexuality by ... well ... opening wide. There’s
simply no way to discuss this plot detour in a family-friendly newspaper; let’s
just say that the execution is as coarse as possible, and explores on-camera
territory akin to the quick shots of Ben Stiller’s “frank and beans” in There’s Something About Mary, or the floating appendage that Jerry O’Connell has
lost in Piranha 3D.
Which makes rather a mockery of
this film’s R rating, but that’s a conversation for a different day.
I’d also argue that the
anatomical inserts, however fleeting, are wholly unnecessary; Ferrell sells the
scene quite successfully with his contorted and resigned expressions (one of
the few times he truly comes to life in this film). But, then, that’s par for
the course for Cohen’s directorial sensibilities; why else would he include a
gratuitous shot of Ferrell using a large plastic bucket for a toilet?
Get Hard marks Cohen’s
directorial debut; he entered the industry as a writer for television’s King
of the Hill, and graduated to big-screen scripting assists on the likes of Idiocracy and Tropic Thunder. In other words, Cohen doesn’t know from
subtlety, which makes him ideal for Ferrell’s equally broad style of humor.
And yet ... while most of the
sidebar characters are burlesques or grotesques, Cohen does develop a fitfully amusing
— even touching, at times — Mutt ’n’ Jeff relationship between James and
Darnell. Goodness, they’re funny simply standing next to each other, with
Ferrell’s 6-foot-3 towering above Hart’s 5-foot-4.
At its best moments, Hart’s
dynamic with Ferrell evokes pleasant memories of Richard Pryor’s attempt to
make Gene Wilder “hip” in 1976’s Silver Streak.
Most of the time, though, this
film tries much too hard. It’s a scattershot effort, akin to a typical Farrelly
brothers or Judd Apatow lowest-common-denominator comedy. The four credited
writers notwithstanding, such scripting is more like throwing a bowl of
spaghetti on the wall, and hoping that something sticks.
Or a better comparison: This sort
of movie-making is like a stage musical that doesn’t bother with out-of-town
tryouts, but instead opens on Broadway, warts and all, with an indiscriminate
mix of its good and bad elements. In other words, no filter.
All of which is way too much
analysis for this no-rent trifle. Ferrell’s fans will embrace Get Hard with
enthusiasm and delight, as was obvious during Monday evening’s full-house
preview screening. I’d like to think that Hart will benefit the most, though,
because he deserves to move on to bigger and better projects.
Ferrell, sadly, remains at the
top of his very, very limited game.
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