Take A Delightful Trip with "Vacation Friends"

Heyo,

Especially after my (thoroughly justified) screed in my previous post, I'd love to offer a little palate cleanser in the form of a quick review of a movie I absolutely loved.

Let's talk about "Vacation Friends" (2021)!

The worst thing about this movie is its completely forgettable title.  It is such a bad title that I may not have even watched this film were it not for Husband's very good judgment to give it a chance.  That damn placeholder-sounding title was almost enough to dissuade me from giving the movie a try, as it makes it sound like this could easily have been a flat and boring chore of a film.  DO NOT BELIEVE ITS LIES.  If you're able to remember the title long enough to actually find and watch the thing, you're in for a sincerely and raucously laugh-out-loud romp.  

"Vacation Friends" is a buddy comedy/wedding crashers hybrid with generous helpings of creativity and heart.  It is carried handily by its core cast of Lil Rel Howery, Yvonne Orji, John Cena, and Meredith Hagner.  

I thought I wasn't familiar with Hagner's work until I was reminded by a perusal of her IMDB page that she was in two really interesting and previously-written-about-on-this-blog movies: "Palm Springs" (2020) and "Ingrid Goes West" (2017).  My only previous exposure to Orji is in a few episodes of the goddamned delightful "A Black Lady Sketch Show" (2019-present).  Both Orji and Hagner are perfect complements to their male counterparts as Emily and Kyla, while also expanding their characters into reasonably fleshed-out human beings (as much as a fully silly ass movie will allow for, anyway).  John Cena's Ron balances absurd impulsivity against goofy yet sincere earnestness, with occasional displays of shocking competence to keep his charmed audience guessing.  As Marcus, the film's proverbial straight man, Howery (recently appreciated in "Free Guy" (2021) and appreciated, albeit less recently, in "Get Out" (2017)) comfortably falls into the ostensible lead role for the film, hopefully lining up his already-busy career for ever more success.

One of the great maneuvers executed by this movie is that, for my brain at least, it played with my expectations for its narrative structure.  Based on the film's trailer, I expected it to start with Emily and Marcus's wedding and perhaps introduce the backstory of their friendship with Kyla and Ron in alternatingly jarring and blurry flashbacks.  Instead, we get to see the friendship from its earliest, not exactly promising moments, only to get maybe a bit irrationally attached to the friendship--just as Ron and Kyla do.

An additional major perk of this movie is that it presents an interracial friendship without being remotely squeamish about the fact that it is about an interracial friendship.  To the contrary, any and all squeamishness stems solely from Ron and Emily's good-heartedly brash bull-in-a-china-shop energy, which Marcus and Emily understandably resist and object to until (spoiler) ultimately opening their hearts to friendships that will endure long beyond a boozy hazy week in Mexico.

Beyond the title, my only other regret for this movie is that Husband and I weren't able to see it in a theater.  Given how much we were laughing at home, I can only happily imagine how much fun it would have been to share in this fun adventure in a theater with a packed house.  I can't tell you how much I hope to be able to enjoy something like that sometime soon.

I gave "Vacation Friends" a 5.  I truly and unabashedly enjoyed the hell out of this movie.  I hope you do too!

{Heart}

Don't Look Up for "Don't Look Up"

Hello everyone,

I'm going to write a quick post about a movie I hated.  Let's talk about "Don't Look Up" (2021).

I'm admittedly a bit behind the buzz about this movie, which was released and much-discussed in December 2021.  But that's by design: I was acquainted with the general premise and flinched at the global context of its release, as it seemed very much too soon (i.e., solidly mid-pandemic / early-omicron surge) to be anything other than triggeringly misery-inducing.  

Now that I have watched it, I can morosely conclude: I was not wrong!  Even months later, it was indeed triggering and misery-inducing!

Seriously?  Fuck this movie.

Do we need it?  Does it have a constructive purpose?  Because honestly, absent affirmative answers to either of these questions, it's impossible for me to see "Don't Look Up" as anything other than a cinematized long-form rant.

A rant at who, exactly?  It's hard to imagine director Adam McKay's audience deserved this screed.  We saw "Vice" (2018).  We saw "The Big Short" (2015).  Presumably, we all more or less agree that big corporations, institutions, and our government are not to be trusted.  We understand how deeply everyday citizens are getting screwed by the grinding gears of a megalomanic executive branch and avaricious corporate overreach.  We almost surely agree, from our excruciating (and, I cannot stress this enough, ONGOING) lived experience, with the general premise that our society is so deeply divided as to be completely non-functional even in the case of a massive, imminent, and unavoidable existential threat.  

So do we need a movie that basically browbeats all of us about how screwed we are?  I'm ever so slightly unconvinced we do!

What exactly is McKay's proposed solution?  That we don't laugh at memes anymore?  That we dispense with all escapism into the lives of celebrities and focus exclusively on our inevitable doom?  That we just kiss and make up with the people who lose their minds at the suggestion that they take basic and minor precautions to protect their neighbors during a pandemic or, I don't know, don't elect an openly sexist racist to the presidency?  

The truth of the matter is that he doesn't propose a solution--to the contrary, he makes us watch as our world is annihilated along with every precious living thing on it.

Sidenote: You know what got me?  The little interstitial of a hummingbird.  I don't know why it was the hummingbird--because I am just as devastated at the idea that every other precious living thing on this planet, every child, every whale, every ant, every tree, could die--but the thought of no more hummingbirds simply brought it all home and destroyed me.  And seriously, what does it accomplish to put that thought in my brain?  Let alone the bleak calculus of what I would do with my time if I knew I only had 6 months and 14 days left?  Why am I thinking about this on a Monday night, Adam McKay?

I understand being mad.  Trust me, I am very mad about the state of our society and how woefully manipulated we've all been into not only hating each other, but more importantly actively working against our common interest, so we don't turn our ire against the ~0.2% of people who benefit from our distraction.  But I am also very mad at this movie for wrapping its knuckles on the foreheads of its audience--for terrorizing us with a horrific "disaster comedy" about the end of everything--without any recourse.  Ultimately, McKay's 2.5 hour-long tantrum of a film isn't accomplishing anything other than cruelty.

So yeah.  Count me as solidly not a fan of this movie.  I gave it a 1.

{Heart}

PS: If you're also apparently really invested in the existence of hummingbirds, here's a charity that feels the same way.