Comedy.... again. Once again, Ryan Reynolds. Again, Jason Bateman. And again two hours lost. For a moment, I said, "Who is watching these movies, damn ?!" But I'm not that sensitive. And my answer is clear. Those who watch movies of Ben Stiller, Adam Sandler and all the big balls, bridesmaids and bachelor hunters. Not that something ... For every train there are passengers.
If it's not clear, we've seen this movie. There would be nothing wrong with director David Dobkin and his two screenwriters were not as men to think of something original instead of gathering what they think. The only time I do not think I've ever looked at is the relationship when the characters of the two heroes swap while they are spitting on a fountain. If this counts as original, I take the words back. The scene in question gives a lot of insight into both the nature of humor and the half of the story line, which consists of tortured gangs beyond the edge of the good taste that most of you can feel. The other half has the noble task of convincing us that whoever he does, he does it, as long as everyone is happy and rich. Personally, this lyrical approach did not work, but my thin string might be too thick.
It was also my hope that the film could be saved by Ryan Reynolds, whom I gladly looked at in the Proposal and Buried. The man fights heroically with the malicious replicas and sketches worthy of a Bulgarian series, but the intentions of foolish laughter generated by the exchange of identities are not realized. In my opinion, neither he nor Jason Bateman managed to convincingly play the role of the other, which, if it had happened, would certainly be much more fun. After all, the result is that I somehow prefer Ryan Reynolds's role to have been played by himself. I have to mention the female presence, which is expressed by the participation of Olivia Wilde and Leslie Mann. There is no doubt that half of the audience will be waiting for them and will definitely have something to see. One even shows boobs, but it's not what you want. Aside from spraying sex, both do not have much work on the screen unless we count that without them the film would end for half an hour. The helplessness of screenwriters reaches cosmic values, especially in their images, which are like being taken out of a subtle computer game in one of the social networks. I recently read how happy she was, Olivia Wilde, that she can now choose her roles. If that goes on, it's better to be unhappy.
In order not to be misunderstood, I may have to say that I do not mind the comedies that raise your mood and from which you remember at least one fresh dialogue. Because we're dealing with places to change, one of the movies I've been laughing at all is Dark Friday. What annoys me are molded semi-fabrics, which, if I can say so, are not politically correct to the average intelligence. What do we get in this case? Toilet humor, scruffy romance and two chick chicks. Sure, some will be enough for them, but that's just not my train.
