Dream crushed. Dream stomped on, chewed up, spit on. Hollywood, you fickle mistress, you have disappointed me again. Just once, once, I would like to see a sequel that lives up to the potential of the movies that came before it. (Arm yourselves with your Aliens comments below) I loved The Hangover. Most people did. It was a brilliant in that it was a raunchy mystery that we were solving right along with the cast. Couldn’t be repeated, but damn if Hollywood was going to let that stop them. Instead we are subjected to The Hangover Part III.
I held some small hope that the third one would somehow come back around to the magic formula that the first one contained. Instead I was force fed Mr. Chow and Zach Galifianakis for a solid hour and forty minutes. I like Zach Galifianakis and his impossible to spell name. I like his character in this movie. He’s funny in the role but it’s impossible to sustain an entire movie based on him and Dr. Ken Jeong being weird. Bradley Cooper and Ed Helms looked as pained to be in the movie as we were watching it. I don’t blame them for phoning it in. Hopefully this really is the last time we will have to try to make the franchise work.
You just couldn’t leave it alone. Hollywood couldn’t leave us with the great memories of a truly different and interesting movie. I can barely even get through the plot with you. Alan’s going to rehab, they end up in Vegas again. Stu ends up with boobs in the final sequence. Done. At least Melissa McCarthy got another chance to be funny. The chemistry between Alan and her character Cassie was one of the only bright spots in the movie.
I won’t even subject you to any more of a review. Save your money. No, take it and run in the opposite direction. Take whatever good memory you have of The Hangover and hold on to that, tight, as you cry yourself to sleep over Hollywood’s greed.
2 franchise killers out of 10
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