One of the worst things that could’ve happened to the gross out genre was Judd Apatow. I fucking love the dude but his brand of soulful dick jokes are almost impossible to emulate, and now every comedy fails to rip him off correctly. Sometimes a film doesn’t need to have any deep meaning or emotional fallout. Sometimes, especially when you’re making a comedy, narrative takes a backseat to jokes. And that’s ok. That’s fine. One of the worst sins a film can commit is failing to understand its purpose. 21 And Over does not know what it wants to be. At. All.
It’s about these kids who like to drink. Sweet, I love movie’s about inebriation. Rock on, rock on, son. But shit goes wrong when one of them goes missing. Thus begins a night of debauchery that involves guns, lesbianism, and buffaloes.
It’s mildly adorable to see these idiots act like full grown drinking men. They have a good rapport. And the energy is fast and fun. I really should have loved this film but it stumbled around the finish line.
First, not all of the jokes hit home. But at least they’re making them. They’re trying to make me laugh for fuck sake. And sometimes the situations are a little too manufactured but, again, you can see them try. A movie always gets points for trying with me. Then it tries to add some heart. Shit just falls apart.
These kids aren’t compelling enough to care about their issues. I don’t give a fuck if one dropped out of college, or another doesn’t want to be a doctor. Fuck you, dude. Make me laugh. You’re my damn jester and the second you get serious I get bored. Unless you write characters that I can actually root for. Otherwise I’ll just want to smash something.
21 And Over isn’t a complete shit storm. It’s funny and brisk but doesn’t understand how shallow it is. There’s nothing wrong with shallow. I’m shallow. I fuck shallow. Just make me laugh and we’ll be golden.