Reel Review Roundup

The Hobbit: The Desolation Of Smaug (M)

Directed by: Peter Jackson

Starring: Martin Freeman, Ian McKellen, Orlando Bloom

Three and a half stars

Review by: Julian Wright

With the lengthy introductions to the 13 dwarves (count ’em!) out of the way (and, hopefully, the musical numbers) in An Unexpected Journey, The Hobbit surges forward with the action packed second chapter. There are familiar faces, orcs, enormous spiders, more orcs and the infamous Smaug serving as more dangerous hurdles on this extended and tumultuous adventure.

While on their travels and being chased by orcs, Bilbo (Martin Freeman) and his dwarf buddies (too many to list here) are captured by the elves including Lord Of the Rings‘ Legolas (played again by Orlando Bloom) and Tauriel (Evangeline Lilly), who has sympathy for the dwarves and takes a fancy to one of them. The swift little fellows manage to escape and find themselves being tracked by two species, but their next destination is to the hidden lair of fire-breathing dragon Smaug to nick one of his precious jewels from the mountains of treasure that he guards. The trick is to not wake the beast while they are robbing him.

On a superficial level of pure popcorn entertainment, Smaug is a vast improvement over the lumbering An Unexpected Journey. The pace is fast without the pesky set-up and establishing scenes that we endured in the first chapter. Jackson still has not lost hi touch when it comes to leaving his audience breathless with frightening close encounters and in awe of the detail of the world he has brought to the screen.

While this fast paced experience resembles a roller-coaster ride of thrills, this saga feels more like a race car track – going around in circles, not really going anywhere. The character development set up in the first film are put on the back burner so that this time we are sharing the journey with people we have a vague idea of. fortunately, they are brought to life by a charming and appealing cast, led by screen and Rings veteran McKellan and the watchable Freeman. Only Bloom fails to register, his blank face a blemish on the stunning Middle Earth landscape.

What Jackson still has failed to do yet again is justify the run time and reason for this story to be stretched over three 2.5 hour films. He keeps us nicely distracted from that fact that this could have been wrapped up in a couple of lengthy films, as opposed to three, with a parade of expertly crafted action sequences. But at the very least, we finally get to learn how to pronounce “Smaug’.

Thor: The Dark World

Directed by: Alan Taylor

Starring: Chris Hemsworth, Natalie Portman, Tom Hiddleston

Three stars

Review by: Julian Wright

Buckle up for another trip to the Marvel superhero well – our eighth in the Avengers series and second since The Avengers. It is a bumpy one with a few pot holes along the way. The scenery is also looking awfully familiar. But that doesn’t necessarily mean it isn’t an excursion that cannot be enjoyed.

Picking up where The Avengers left off, Loki (Tom Hiddleston) is imprisoned back in his home world of Asgard for his crimes in New York, while he works out some daddy issues with ruler Odin (Anthony Hopkins). Meanwhile, back on Earth, Thor’s (Chris Hemsworth) former fling and astrophysicist Jane (Natalie Portman) stumbles onto a portal in London and discovers an ancient, hidden fog-thing called Aether, which can plunge the nine worlds into darkness. This piques the interest of power-hungry Malekith (Christopher Eccleston) who sets about taking possession. Great timing too, because the worlds are about to align, as they do every 5000 years. Sensing the danger that Jane is now in, Thor returns to Earth with his rebellious brother Loki (Tom Hiddleston) to stop him. The trust issues between brothers is what gives weight to the intricate, science heavy plot that increasingly becomes more complicated and hectic.

Thor: The Dark World is the kind of movie in which a lot is happening, but not a lot is going on – particularly under the surface. Struggling to emerge from the shadow of The Avengers, which was an epic and coherent convergence of all superheroes and their stories, The Dark World is of the mentality that bigger is better. The script doesn’t quite strike the right balance of spectacle and story, with the romance between Thor and Jane playing more like a throwaway so as to not interfere too much with the action, stripping much of the heart from the story.

Where it does succeed is in its ability to make the audience laugh. Comedic gems – Thor hanging his hammer on a coat rack and a couple of choice cameos – are nice touches, but this has a consistent sense of humour. Kat Dennings’ (playing Jane’s intern Darcy) presence as the comic relief takes this instalment a long way. Grating on her television series 2 Broke Girls in which she appears to try too hard for laughs, but effortlessly charming and funny here, she outshines her co-stars. Particularly heavy-handed Anthony Hopkins, who is cringe-worthy. The humour is the saviour because the dramatic arc lacks oomph and the action is at times confusing, as is the science and multiple worlds. This Marvel well still has plenty of entertainment value but something meatier may be required if the studio continue to trot out sequels. Otherwise we might need to bring along a deck of cards for the next trip to entertain ourselves.

Diana (M)

Directed by: Oliver Hirschbiegel

Starring: Naomi Watts, Naveen Andrews

One star

Review by: Julian Wright

Diana, which depicts the last two years of the Princess’ life, feels like it should come with a Kathy Griffin inspired “Allegedly” disclaimer with it. Much like the flame haired stand up comic’s scathing tales about the famous, Diana the film paints the Princess in an unflattering light, airs her supposed dirty laundry and all seemingly without a shred of proof. So many supposed intimate moments that happened in private without witnesses are guessed and embellished for dramatic effect and claim that Diana and her lover of two years Hasnat Khan held mind numbingly stupid conversations, and communicated in clichés.

With her marriage to Charles finally in the last stages of dissolve, Princess Diana (Naomi Watts) meets heart surgeon Hasnat Khan (Naveen Andrews) and the two share a passionate love affair for two years. But the life of a private and focussed surgeon proves difficult to merge with that of a world-famous figure daily hounded by the media, which results in a tumultuous relationship plagued by several downs, many ups, and break ups and make ups.

Filling in the gaps of the last two years of Princess Diana’s life before her death in 1997 has proved a disastrous move for everyone involved in this misguided biography. Exposing what was apparently the biggest romance of her life appears to be built on more embellishments and guesses than fact. While the film touches on her admirable humanitarian work, relationship with the frenzied media and breakdown from the Royal family – the most interesting aspects of her life – it instead chooses to focus on, according to it, some horrendously schmaltzy love affair. Despite this relationship supposedly being a landmark event in the Princess’s life, it is painfully mishandled and mistreats it with an alarming lack of subtlety or skill.

This movie aims to reveal character flaws, but instead depicts Diana as a nitwit. In a bizarrely scripted moment, the pampered Princess is unaware how hamburgers are made. Not only is her cooking knowledge sorely lacking, but her stalkerish and childish lovesick attitude behaviour – which she admits to so flippantly –  are what defines her here. The Princess at one point, acting like a tween Justin Bieber fan, plants a lipstick kiss on her boyfriends’ mirror then traces a love heart around it. As a fellow viewer laughed “What is she, 12?” Compounded by her pouty moment in which she tilts her head and says, in a child-like Paris Hilton voice “I’m a Princess, and I get what I want”, this is not a version of the Princess that rings true. Nor does it ring favourable – apparently she also orchestrated the paparazzi to get back at her lover after they quarrel.

Watts gives all that she can, channelling the icon’s mannerisms and poise, but the script works against her at every turn, asking of her to act some horrendously unrealistic scenes and speak gratingly bad dialogue. Had this script stuck with what she was known for and how she dealt with it, it would have made for not only a much more interesting film, but one grounded in reality. Her isolating existence, time away from her children and having to deal with these simultaneously is drama enough for a character study, without the mawkish romance. On a scale of film biographies, Diana is more The Iron Lady than The King’s Speech.

Gravity (M)

Directed by: Alfonso Cuaron

Starring: Sandra Bullock, George Clooney

Four and a half stars

Review by: Julian Wright

There are no restless spirits throwing a tanty, deranged killers leaping out from the shadows, or even probe obsessed aliens, but Gravity is making itself at home alongside terrifying classics Alien, The Exorcist, The Shining and Halloween. Albeit with a much larger budget, bigger name cast and all the special effects money can buy, Gravity’s intentions remain the same – to shake, rattle and roll its audience – which it achieves in spades. It may simply be the eerie presence of endless empty space as the lurking villain,  but if you emerge from this ordeal with dry palms, then you need to check your pulse.

Tapping into universal fears of death and isolation, and then waving them in our faces with impeccable 3D imagery, co-writer and director Cuaron and his script buddy and son Jonas take us into space for one hell of a roller coaster ride and a nerve knotting experience. The plot is thin but the tension is thick as engineer and first time astronaut Ryan Stone (Sandra Bullock) nervously works away on a space shuttle while the more experienced Matt Kowalski (George Clooney) floats around in his little jet pack telling stories and engaging in flirty chit-chat with his attractive colleague, trying to lighten the mood.

Word from the Houston station on Earth comes in that debris is heading their way but before they can take cover, the shrapnel connects, wreaking havoc and Stone is thrust out into space, spinning uncontrollably. Communication lines to Earth are cut off, her only contact is with Kowalski and her oxygen levels are depleting at an alarming rate. What follows in almost real-time is a story of one woman’s sheer determination to overcome every last obstacle thrown in the way of her safety and return home.

Never before has terror been so eloquently constructed and conveyed, with Cuaron’s fluid camera absorbing the vast surrounds in long takes and occasionally carefully creeping into Stone’s helmet, putting us in her shoes (or suit). We experience the dilemma with her as opposed to witnessing it, feeling every jolt and jiggle in a gravity-less backdrop. And it is one dilemma that we only just barely survive as every one of Stone’s gasps for air is also one of our own.

Cuaron nicely balances the visceral nature of his film by stopping to smell the roses, so to speak. Amidst the hectic panic, there is a chance to take in the awe and beauty of Earth from this rarely experienced perspective. It also serves as an exploration of our relationship with our mysterious universe and that no matter how far we have come as a species, we are still at the mercy of our environment.

Unhindered by their bulky space suits, Clooney and (especially) Bullock’s performances shine through. Bullock’s uncanny, realistically performed arc is as wondrous as the glorious and seamless special effects around her as she goes from nervous, panicked and helpless to determined and focused while the whole time keeping her character human and relatable – a performance akin to Sigourney Weaver’s in Alien and Aliens but without the drooling, toothy critters. Gravity is a much better showcase for Bullock’s acting than her Oscar-winning one in The Blind Side.

In a rare move for big budget projects set in space, Gravity values silence – adhering to the scientific fact that sound does not travel in space. There are several spectacular moments of destruction to rival a Michael Bay film that, from Stone’s point of view, play out almost entirely without sound. So attentive to detail and realism is Cuaron that he is unwilling to succumb to Hollywood norms for the sake of spectacle. His style is the spectacle. Such a stressful experience is Gravity that you may leave short of breath and with stomach ulcers – but it is worth it.

Runner Runner (M)

Directed by: Brad Furman

Starring: Justin Timberlake, Ben Affleck, Gemma Arterton

One and a half stars

Review by: Julian Wright

Perhaps Justin Timberlake is only good in small doses on the big screen. The singer making his way in films has made so few remarkable choices, particularly with his lead roles, that his impressive turn as the slimy but super slick entrepreneur in The Social Network is beginning to look like a fluke. His appearance in the disastrous In Time certainly didn’t do him any favours. Taking on the wide-eyed, naïve hero in Runner Runner also ensures that his film career idles just the little bit longer.

When he tries and fails to multiply his $17,000 in savings to pay off his Princeton University fees, online gambling whizz kid Richie Furst (Justin Timberlake) loses everything. Being the brainiac that he is, the struggling student begins to investigate and uncovers a glitch in the website, indicating that those who run it are cheating the players and taking off with their money. Richie hops on the next plane to Costa Rico (his monetary source for flights and accommodation is a minor detail conveniently overlooked) to track down website owner and millionaire Ivan Block (Ben Affleck). Richie’s honesty gets him a job with the shady business owner, but the new favourite employee discovers he has entered a dangerous world that he may not be able to escape from. But his occasional trysts with his sultry colleague Rebecca Shafran (Gemma Arterton) tends to soften the sting.

Surprisingly short but incredibly dull, Runner Runner fails to make us interested in the phenomenon of online gambling, the shifty goings on that it has spawned or these characters that are caught up in the intrigue, making this 90 minutes feel like a much less exciting Lord of the Rings marathon. From the obvious, underwritten characters to the Scooby Doo reveal at the end, this is a lacklustre script constructed with little care. So flat is the material that it’s not even laughably bad enough to be mildly entertaining. This toothless thriller can’t even get the blood pressure up with the presence of a few hungry crocodiles.

The actors don’t appear to be trying, not that they have much material to work with – Timberlake trying once again to carry a film on his shoulders has little screen charisma, Arterton is required to do little more than act sexy and Affleck occasionally shouts. Their uninspired performances are merely a reflection of the script.

One Directon: This Is Us (G)

Directed by: Morgan Spurlock

Starring: Niall Horan, Zayn Malick, Liam Payne, Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson

Three and a half stars

Review by: Julian Wright

A documentary that follows the One Direction boys – Niall, Zayn, Liam, Louis and Harry – around the world on their first big tour was never going to offer any real insight. While in the prime of their popularity, these UK lads are not getting up to any kind of trouble that would make for controversial material. There is no pot smoking, promiscuous sex or hotel room trashing. Not only is there no room in their hectic schedule, but they are just not that kind of pop star. Also, the record label would not want to alienate the young girls downloading the albums. This is all pretty safe stuff.

The story of five young lads in their early 20s performing to thousands upon thousand of screaming and crying teenage girls touches on all the painfully obvious points – crazed fans, crowd control, huge productions, touring, performing, getting up to mischief etc. The surprising thing about this gruelling whirlwind tour that we may not have thought about is the effect it has on their parents. This makes for some of the most interesting and moving revelations. While it does not dwell on sentimentality or woe-is-me sookery, the parents of these boys who one minute auditioned for a realty TV show, then the next minute ripped from their roots and families for a 10 month world tour, are the forgotten ones. The ones who lost their children to the world and to their adoring fans. And in exploring that heartbreaking reality, this tween aimed doco sets itself aside from the recent 3D cash ins from Miley Cyrus to Katie Perry and Justin Bieber in between.

The small town kids caught up in flashing lights angle is played out to effect as the doco charts the band’s on-a-whim creation Cowell and The Beatles-like mania. Setting the stage is important for us clueless folk who wouldn’t be able to pick one One Directioner from another in a line-up. Much is made of the serendipitous nature of how the group came together – a last-minute thought from producer Simon Cowell to bring the boys back and jam them together as a boy-band after they separately auditioned for and were eventually rejected from the 2010 season of X-Factor. Only for them to ultimately lose the competition.

But while the boys lap up the attention and ride the wave of instant success, the situation takes its toll on their parents who sit back at home missing their kids. There is an unexpected amount of loss that none of them could have prepared for. As one mother says “I am supposed to be the one taking my son to these cities” and one father says “I’m from a small town, I don’t have any advice to give him anymore.” Another even resorts to buying a promotional cardboard cut-out of her son just so she can see him. Unexpectedly candid – these are parents who are missing out on vital time with their children for a commercial endeavour.

These heartbreaking revelations are desperately needed, seeing as this doco is so uninterested in showing us any negative impacts on the band members themselves, always showing them as fresh as daisies, even at their 53rd of 130 concerts. Or as they hoon around the arenas on golf carts in their downtime. In fact, it is this type of behaviour that shows an immature side to these boys that implies that maybe they do not realise the weight of the situation. Sure, they are young fellows just having fun, but no one around them tells them to pull their head in and remember that they are working. Not even their choreographer, whose moves they make fun of. Or the photographer whose time they waste with silly, unusable poses. Fun, down to earth larrikins, sure, but there is often a line that is crossed that lands them on the unprofessional side.

Perhaps a step back for documentarian Morgan Spurlock who famously put his health on the line for his breakout hit Super Size Me, with this sweet, tooth-ache of a concert film, but he offers glimmers of consequences of the group’s success. It is the sadness behind the brief comments made by their parents that linger beyond the catchy tunes and lyrics of the One Direction songs and their flashy concerts.

The Mortal Instruments: City Of Bones (M)

Directed by: Harald Zwart

Starring: Lily Collins, Jamie Campbell Bower, Kevin Zegers,

Two and a half stars

Review by: Julian Wright

Who says comedies shouldn’t be longer than two hours? Not technically classed as a comedy, The Mortal Instruments: City of Bones clocks up more guffaws than the recent Red 2 (heck, Schindler’s List was funnier than that lazy sequel). And I am not just talking about the unintentional howlers either. The one saving grace for this Twilight wannabe, teen pandering bag of mystical mumbo jumbo is its sense of humour – and its gawd-awful dialogue, acting and direction. While most cringe at the thought of the next Judd Apatow running longer than his last comedy, the 134 minute This Is 40 (though it was shorter than his 146 minute epic Funny People), the consistent stream of hilarity make this 130 minute fantasy zip by. Not that I am praising poor film making, but how can one stay mad at something so long and so incompetent, that remains deliriously entertaining (for all the wrong reasons) without once forcing you to check your watch or suss out the nearest exit?

This somewhat coming of age story about identity (I can’t believe I am justifying its silly story with meaning) has coffee-house hanging Brooklyn teen Clary Fray (Lily Collins) discover, when she witnesses the murder of an invisible man (only she can see him and his attackers) and her secretive mother is abducted, that she is actually a shadowhunter. That’s part angel, part human. This is relevant because the people who have her mother are after a precious cup (yes, a cup) that is apparently a mighty powerful tool that Clary and her new shadowhunter pals must keep safe.

There is so much more to this story than my three sentence synopsis suggests with werewolves, vampires, a pants-less ally, and a blue portal. But then again, much of the exposition is repeated so regularly that maybe there isn’t all that much going on at all. Regardless, this starts out surprisingly well, for about the first 15 minutes. The mystery is suggested immediately with promise of an interesting revelation that convinces the audiences that it would be worth their time to continue watching. But it very soon begins to fall apart, slowly but surely. Clary preferring to fill her apartment with gas to blow up her first demon encounter while taking refuge in her fridge, as opposed to exiting the home, is an early clue where this is heading. But it isn’t just the baffling visual aspect – the dialogue is also mind bogglingly bad. Clary reacts to an underground labyrinth of tunnels, hideouts and skulls with “I can’t believe this place is just outside of the city.” Then there is the love interest Jace (Jamie Campbell Bower) who, after their first fight, scolds Clary for how quickly she would dismiss their love. At this point they had shared one cheesy smooch.

Ultimately, this is a sloppily plotted and scripted adaptation (homosexual relationships are alluded to then immediately forgotten, a human friend’s eyesight is restored after a vampire bite, but Clary just shrugs it off) with questions raised that are left unanswered (why is Clary more concerned about her friend’s shaky alliance than her missing mother or the demons after her blood? And why doesn’t Godfrey Gao have pants on in his first scene?) But there is a deliberate sense of humour amidst the corkers, with Jace given the majority of the witty lines (besides the one mentioned earlier). Just when you think the script might have some bright moments or spots of clarity, it proves the opposite. Not even director Harald Zwart seems to have a firm handle on any of the madness. Or perhaps he knew what he was doing all along with his tongue firmly in cheek; the humans in this world are, after all, referred to as mundanes.

Red 2 (M)

Directed by: Dean Parisot

Starring: Bruce Willis, Helen Mirren, John Malkovich, Mary Louise Parker, Anthony Hopkins

One star

Review by: Julian Wright

There is nothing more excruciating an experience than a two hour comedy that is not funny. Or an action movie that is not thrilling. Even worse, when one tries to incorporate both and fails dismally. The one-joke premise film Red (adapted from a three-issue comic series) was a breezy action comedy that drew plenty of laughs from its silly and simplistic plot which was built on the concept of old people toting guns. But the idea ran its course. The film was a satisfying, if not particularly memorable, self-contained piece of entertainment. In the grand tradition of going back to the well that spawned anything that made a few bucks at the cinema, the old folks are packing heat again in this lacklustre attempt to secure some more green at the box office. The studio doesn’t even try to conceal the dollar signs that are a permanent fixture in their eyes, putting into production a lazy script (by Red scribes Jon and Erich Hoeber) and churning out a frustratingly dull product.

Retired CIA agent Frank Moses (Bruce Willis) is trying to enjoy a low-key domesticated life with civilian Sarah (Mary-Louise Parker) when he is drawn back into international intrigue. The two, along with Frank’s mate and former colleague Marvin Boggs (John Malkovich) discover that they have been named as participants in a Cold War nuclear weapon operation and set out to clear their names, with Victoria (Helen Mirren) on their heels under contract to kill them and nutty bomb creator Dr Edward Bailey (Anthony Hopkins) in tow. This tongue in cheek affair wouldn’t be complete without an appearance from Frank’s former flame Katya (Catherine Zeta-Jones) causing tension and setting up relationship insecurities for Sarah.

If only any of this was the slightest bit entertaining. Never before has a sense of comedy and what is considered funny been so wrong. From the clunky opening scenes it is apparent that all involved were not on the same wavelength, (or simply just not interested) with the comedic rhythm completely off. It feels like the delivery of the lines and editing of each scenes try hard to avoid our funny bone. The actors are saying jokes, but none of it is funny. From Willis’ complete nonchalance to Parker’s apparent desperation for laughs as the ditzy one, the majority of the cast had committed to a career low point. Malkovich is the highlight with his energetic goofiness, Mirren adds steely, dead pan class, and Hopkins gets the chance to play and have fun, but his arc comes as no surprise and his overuse of the line “Jolly good” grates. He’s British, we get it. In fact, there are zero surprises here with plot twists that seem to come from a Scriptwriting 101 text-book. The only surprise is how unengaging it all is.

Being low on laughs and lacking in exciting action, the high point of creativity in this film is the clever comic inspired transitions between scenes (used when the characters end up in another city), which is frequent, yet not often enough considering how much of a chore the rest is to sit through. When this is the only recommendation one can make for a movie starring a slew of talent, you know it is best to avoid it, otherwise you might see red.

The Messengers (M)

Directed by: Oxide Pang Chung, Danny Pang

Starring: Kristen Stewart, Dylan McDermott, Penelope Ann Miller

One star

Review by Julian Wright

This haunted house film is destined to live a short life at the cinema. Not only will it be edged off the screens by blockbusters like Pirates of the Caribbean 3 and Shrek 3, but it is basically a direct to DVD bore-fest that got lost along the way to the shelves of your local video shop and somehow ended up in multiplexes.

After the Solomon family experience some tough times in Chicago, they decide to turn over a new leaf by buying a run down farm in North Dakota to grow sunflowers. Troubled teenager Jessica (Kristen Stewart) is obviously not too impressed with having to leave all her friends behind and live in a house where her mobile phone doesn’t get a signal, but she soon begins experiencing some supernatural goings-on. Of course no one believes her and so after a nasty attack while home alone with her baby brother, she begins to investigate the history of the house and discovers the past owners didn’t just “up and leave” like the townspeople suspected.

Sometimes it can be fun to settle down in a dark cinema and allow yourself to be manipulated by an old-fashioned haunted house flick, but it is hard to keep an interest in a film that relies so heavily on creaky floorboards to scare an audience like it’s a new filmmaking technique. It is as if the writer and directors went down a list of haunted house movie clichés and decided to cram them all into this dull film. In fact you might have more fun trying to keep count of all the clichés than paying attention to the flimsy plot.

The plot is so thin and familiar that you would think the writers might have jacked up some character development but we don’t even discover the reason for the family’s relocation until way past the halfway mark and by that time you couldn’t possibly care any less. Luckily co-producer Sam Raimi is enjoying such huge success with the Spiderman franchise because if his career was based solely on turkeys like this he would be in big trouble.

As appeared in Examiner Newspapers, 2007.

We’re The Millers (MA)

Directed by: Rawson Marshall Thurber

Starring: Jason Sudeikis, Jennifer Aniston, Emma Roberts, Will Poulter

Three and a half stars

Review by: Julian Wright

We’re The Millers is the kind of comedy that really shouldn’t get a passing grade or a positive review. The script is simplistic, crude, predictable, at times stupid and the direction is so pedestrian that anyone could have plopped the camera in position and called “Action.” And yet here we are, three and a half stars awarded and an open confession that I laughed a lot. We’re the Millers proves that an average script can be elevated by a game cast and a few hilarious set pieces. Of course this is not an endorsement for script writers to start slacking off.

Career drug dealer David Clark (Jason Sudeikis) is robbed of all his weed and savings, so to make it up to his supplier Brad (Ed Helms) he agrees to smuggle a “smidge and a half” of marijuana across the Mexico border. Convinced that a single white male travelling to and from Mexico is sure to raise alarm bells, he recruits two neighbours Rose (Jennifer Aniston) and Kenny (Will Poulter) and a runaway Casey (Emma Roberts) to pose as his wholesome family. Rose is a stripper who is being evicted, Casey has nowhere else to go and nerdy Kenny has been left home alone by his parents so he is just up for an adventure. Of course, smuggling drugs is easier said than done and the clashing, bickering four must face multiple hurdles including a swinging couple and an angry drug lord.

Getting past the fact that this film hardly convinces us in those vital set-up scenes that any of these characters would agree to go on this job with David, We’re The Millers is surprisingly tolerable and amusing. Big laughs are few and far between but there are consistent chuckles between them. Gross out humour goes a long way – but it is Poulter’s sincere performance contrast against the more outlandish stuff that gets us through the rough patches. Aniston, who is still finding her feet with roles on the big screen, is once again serviceable but gets the short end of the stick with her underwritten character. Her stripper is so thinly drawn that it is virtually impossible for her to make anything more of it than what she does on-screen. Her first few appearances are so fleeting that she doesn’t even manage to convince as a stripper, until the gratuitous but show stopping strip tease used to get them out of a sticky situation.

While avoiding anything at depth, We’re The Millers does stop (albeit briefly) for moments of warmth – Kenny’s coming of age in particular – but aims squarely for laughs, which it gets. Anything that achieves what it sets out to do can’t be all that bad, can it? Even if our memory of it only lasts mere minutes.