Cast: Dwayne Johnson, Kevin Hart, Aaron Paul, Jason Bateman, Amy Ryan
Director: Rawson Marshall Thurber
Call it the superhero scourge or the blight of franchise but the
big-dollar cinema, which invariably has few brave men saving the world –
sometimes in spandex, sometimes not-- seems to be throttling everything
else. If a courageous film like the quirky buddy comedy Nice Guys finds
its way to the theatres, we the audience decide to look the other way.
You, O Hollywood, have conditioned us. Even when we are talking
bromance, we want it with a generous serving of formula, and – please,
oh please – someone save the world. Enter Dwayne Johnson, Kevin Hart and
buddy comedy 101, Central Intelligence. The film keeps so much to the
bromance formula that it is funny in itself: We get jokes on anatomy
(Dwayne Johnson’s character is called Robbie Weirdicht), fart jokes, the
mandatory marital counselling session and other vulgar gags.
But leave it to the pocket-sized Hart and his buddy, who is not
called The Rock for nothing, to squeeze out the comic juice from this
unevenly-paced thriller comedy. There may be crater-sized script holes
but you still guffaw as this unlikely pair goes about sending CIA in a
tizzy.
Now, for the plot: 20 years ago, Hart was the star of his high
school, destined to great things while an overweight, awkward Johnson
was the butt of all jokes. When Robbie is pushed into the school
assembly naked by bullies, Hart is the only one who comes to his rescue.
Fast forward two decades and Hart is a burnt out accountant and Johnson
is, well, back to being the buffed, muscled Johnson we know. He is also a
CIA agent who may or may not have gone rogue. He definitely idolises
Hart still and gets in touch with him. CIA boss woman (Amy Ryan) follows
suit and a kerfuffle ensues. At stake are secret nuke codes which can
destroy the world.
Hart and Johnson share an easy chemistry and there are enough lines
in there to keep the jokes coming. Johnson calls a befuddled Hart
“snacksized Denzel” and “like a black Will Smith” at various points in
the film.
The muscled Johnson plays Robbie like a goofball who is still struck
on Hart’s high school charisma. His love for unicorns, fanny packs and
schmaltzy films keep the laughs coming. And hell, who has a name like
Sting, or The Rock for crying out loud?
The trouble lies in director Rawson Marshall Thurber’s patchy handling
of the story. There are moments when the film is slow and sluggish, and
then it is on steroids with hyper action. Those are the moments when you
thanks god that you are in this ride with a big Johnson and a little
Hart. Also, watch out for the cameos both credited and not.
Saturday, September 10, 2016
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