Al's Omniflick: Horrible Bosses 2

Monday, December 1, 2014

Horrible Bosses 2

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Sean Anders/Starring: Jason Bateman, Jason Sudeikas, Charlie Day, Jennifer Aniston, Christoph Waltz, Chris Pine, Jamie Foxx and Kevin Spacey

Yeah, accent on horrible.

You might wince in puzzlement after reading the post heading. Yes, why would I bother with excrement like Horrible Bosses 2 when it seemed like I had nothing but platinum-plated films to review in November? Shouldn't this movie have been assigned a January release? You know what the first month of the year means in American movie industry terms. It is that woeful time in the movie calendar when Hollywood has its own version of a tag-sale; when all the rubbish is discarded; hoping suckers (like me) will shell out green to see flicks better streamed than screened. More on that kind of cinema in January.

So what is my excuse for bothering you all with this nonsense? Well, it does boast a pretty decent cast; Christoph Waltz, Jason Bateman and Jamie Foxx, to name a few and it isn't so bad to see Jennifer Aniston in lingerie and acting randy but other reasons for seeing this film are meager or non-existent. Whew, what a waste of time!
If you didn't suffer the misfortune of seeing the first movie, I won't fritter your precious time with a recap. Suffice it to say Nick Hendricks (Jason Bateman), Kurt Buckman (Jason Sudeikis) and Dale Arbus (Charlie Day) are back from plotting the murder of their terrible bosses and are now poised to make it big with a new invention called Shower Buddy; a device that attaches to a shower head which dispenses shampoo that lathers immediately upon contact. The three men try to promote the product on Good Morning L.A. but Dale gets a bad case of camera fright and the name of their company, which is the trio's first names strung together; sounds vaguely like a racial slur, which doesn't sit right with the African-American co-host.

When the three men demonstrate their invention on camera, a raunchy and mildly amusing shower-scene follows where an unfortunate T.V. camera shot makes it appear Dale is stimulating Kurt with his hand and mouth.

The three hope to find investors for their invention and manage to attract the attention of a father and son who run a successful catalog business. The son, Rex Hanson (Chris Pine) and his father, Bert Hanson (Christoph Waltz), place an order for 100,000 units to market in their catalog. Or so the men think. When they next meet Rex and Bert, the father announces they have cancelled their order and have designed their own version of the device, called the Shower Pal. Devastated and angry, the three men hatch a drastic plan to save their company. Kurt and Dale favor kidnapping Rex and holding him for a $500,000 ransom, which will keep their company solvent. The kidnapping plot involves a lot of noisy, idiotic chatter between Kurt and Dale, who can't seem to filter any numbskull idea that comes to mind. In fact, most of the movie seemed to consist of discordant, ear-lashing, volleys of inane comments between the two. It isn't exaggeration to say I came close several times to plugging my ears. If the noise was unbearable, the fact that it wasn't funny made it more insufferable.

Nick, ever the voice of reason and sense (and lower volume!), struggles to prevent Kurt and Dale's ill-conceived and ill-advised scheme from finding expression but ultimately fails. Part of their plan involves stealing nitrous oxide from Dr. Julia Harris (Jennifer Aniston); Nick's would-be lover from the first film who runs a support group for sex addicts. It is during one of her meetings when the three men sneak into her office.

In another scene that falls flat, Nick is inadvertently drawn into the meeting; believing it to be a gathering of recovering alcoholics. When asked to share an experience, he relates a heavy-drinking episode that just happens to carry homoerotic innuendo.
Why a dentist would conduct such a meeting inside her place of practice seems bizarre but it must have seemed like a good idea to the film's legion of screenwriters. It must have also been a way to have Dr. Harris be involved in a story that has little use for her except to fulfill a male-fantasy role.

When more of Kurt and Dale's lame-brained kidnapping ideas lead the three men to Rex's home, they accidentally inhale nitrous gas and fall asleep inside a closet. The next day they discover Rex inside their trunk, gagged. When they speculate as to how he got there, Rex leaps from the trunk and informs the men he did it himself. They learn soon after that Rex intends to be part of the kidnapping scheme, which the men have little choice but to consent to, given their dire financial situation. Rex asks the men to demand a 5 million dollar ransom, for which they will receive a substantial cut. Of course it seems ridiculous that anyone would agree to such a deal, given their betrayal by the Hansons', but aside from Nick, who voices his reservations, the other two foolishly agree to Rex's scheme.

The plotting and the actual execution of the plan round out the rest of the movie and, as one might anticipate, a double cross and car chase (one of very few inspired moments in the movie) and some more foolishness with Dr. Harris ensue but without much amusement, excitement or raunchy fun. What director Sean Anders' film is is a lot of noise, mostly generated by Kurt and Dale as their stream-of-consciousness yakking vies for ear-time.

The burning question that never yields a satisfactory answer is: why can't multiple screenwriters manage to write a funny script? The bigger, more pertinent question might be: why make a sequel to a movie that, in spite of its $100+ million gross, was painfully dim-witted and forgettable? I think I answered my own question. A healthy bottom line justifies everything I guess; even more sludge.

I think the UN should bestow on anyone who saves people from spending money on junky movies a special, humanitarian award. My few and dear readers, I would like to claim that accolade for myself. I want UN Secretary-General Ban Ki-Moon to recognize Al's Omniflick for its tireless efforts in discouraging movie-goers from sending their hard-earned currency to die in movie house cash registers. Yeah...my blog might one day share the esteem of such notable humanitarian organizations like Amnesty International, Doctors Without Borders and The International Red Cross.

...ZZZZZZZZ--huh? What? Wait a minute; was I dreaming?

Oh well.

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On DVD

Fury (1936)

Director: Fritz Lang

Though we might normally think of the films M and Metropolis when director Fritz Lang becomes the topic of conversation, less known is the legendary director's work in Hollywood. Having fled the ever-growing menace of Nazi Germany for America in the early 1930s', Lang eventually found himself under contract for MGM.

Though his work in Hollywood is very uneven, one standout is Fury, from 1936. Starring Spencer Tracy and Sylvia Sydney, the film's condemnation of mob justice seems spectacularly daring now, considering lynching was still a reality in Depression-era America. We don't see one black person in the film entire but we know precisely for whom Lang film is sympathetic.

Spencer Tracy plays Joe Wilson, who is arrested in a small town while en route to meet his fiance, Katherine (Sylvia Sydney). Suspected of being part of a kidnapping of a little girl, Wilson is arrested on the flimsiest evidence. While he sits in cell; angry and indignant, Katherine is puzzled as to why her fiance hasn't arrived at their prearranged meeting place.

But Wilson's fortunes take a darker and more dangerous turn when a mob--already on edge--is roused to anger. Egging one another on, the mob moves on the jailhouse where Wilson is being held. As the angry gathering becomes a mass, drawing citizens of the town into their swelling numbers, a lynch-mob begins to form. The sheriff, determined to see due process take its course, refuses their forceful demands. Becoming angrier and angrier and bolder and bolder, the crowd storms the jail, overwhelming the sheriff and his deputies. Unable to unlock the cell doors to reach Wilson, the mob sets the jailhouse ablaze as an alternate method of lynching.

Katherine, having arrived on the scene, faints when she sees flames engulf the cell where her fiance is held.

In spite of the mob acting as a faceless entity, its principle members are brought to trial though the town and the defendants maintain a conspiracy of silence, hoping to escape convictions and censure.

A sure acquittal seems imminent until damning evidence assures their guilt. When the majority of the members receive death sentences, Wilson turns up at his brothers, having survived the fire. Knowing the public is unaware of his survival, he vows to stay in hiding to ensure the mob conspirators are executed.

The scene where Katherine, nearly insane from grief, comes face to face with Joe is a powerful moment in the film. As she slowly recovers from her state, she realizes Joe's vindictive determination to see the mob hang is in itself a great injustice.

The story climaxes during a stirring courtroom scene that brings the fascinating story to a close.

I would have never expected Hollywood to make a statement as powerful as Fury made in 1936. Given the fact that lynchings in America at the time went unpunished, the movie railed bravely, in spite of the main character being white rather than black, against what was then the status quo. The Oxbow Incident would make a similar and commensurately powerful statement seven years later.

The film's willingness to peer into the darker side of American life could be partly attributed to Lang, who co-wrote the story and who was no stranger to exploring the darker side of humanity. Having seen evil flower in his home country, it makes sense Lang would choose to tell this story.

Spencer Tracy and Sylvia Sydney give wonderful, emotionally layered performances. Katherine's near descent into madness is depicted touchingly by Sydney. To see Tracy's mild-mannered Wilson become angry and vengeful is heartbreaking.

Even watching Lang's film on a small screen does little to diminish its power. Weeks after the viewing, I still can't shake its indelible images or its angry indictment of one of America's great crimes. One couldn't devise a better title than one it was given eighty years ago. Fury indeed.