My come-up as a film critic is tied to a very specific subset of the old YouTube landscape: The caustic critic. The hyperbolic, foul-mouthed, ‘woe is me for choosing to watch this shit’ kind of entertainer, where just about every review choice was a film the reviewer didn’t like for bonus reaction fodder. Sure, some of these folx are still around, but it’s not the default like it used to be. Honestly though, even with how much progress I’ve made from when I was just a wannabe copycat trying to make it on YouTube… some of that is still in my DNA as a critic.
Part of that hyperbolic vitriol (born out of a shared ancestry from Mystery Science Theatre 3000) might lead someone to react to a comedy film they don’t like as if they’re being tortured against their will; like something that could traumatise them for life. Except I've gone through that shit without any hyperbole whatsoever. Readers who have been following me since way back when might remember when I looked at the 2015 reboot of Vacation, which to this day remains the single most painful experience I’ve ever had engaging with any form of media, let alone film. So when news hit that the directors/writers of that same film were co-writing another film with ‘Vacation’ in the title… well, cue the horrified flashbacks with The Sound Of Silence playing in the background. And while I can safely say that this isn’t nearly as egregious as Vacation 2015, that’s not to say that this is free of problems. Far, far, far from it.
The plot itself has some solid comedic potential, following a vacationing couple (Lil Rel Howery and Yvonne Orji) who run into another vacationing couple (John Cena and Meredith Hagner) and they have fun together in Mexico. However, that fun starts to wear thin when, months after their vacation ended, Cena and Hagner gatecrash Howery and Orji’s wedding. On the surface, this is an interesting idea, looking at interpersonal relationships that are fun under certain conditions, but wear out once you start hanging out any more regularly. It’s fairly standard as far as cringe comedy, but the friction across divides goes beyond that, looking at the conflicts between white and black people, and even upper-class and working-class people; combined with the casting, with two very charming male leads, this is promising.
But as the film goes on, and the interactions between the couples begin to stack up, something becomes scarily clear: This is a satire about what divides us that’s only understands a quarter of the board it’s playing with. John Cena is so likeable in every movie he’s in as to be a living meme by this point (one thankfully removed from those goddamned horns nowadays), but even his charisma isn’t enough to patch up the… uncomfortable implications of what’s going on. Simply put, the way that Cena and Hagner just barge into the other couple’s lives, up to and including being drugged without consent and… other things without consent (I can see why the director of Hot Tub Time Machine 2 was originally interested in directing this *gag*), one phrase comes to mind: White privilege.
Aaaaaaand I’m willing to bet that a few readers either closed this window completely, or have scrolled down to start ranting about the subject, but let me explain. The term ‘white privilege’ doesn’t mean that all white people have a beneficial life free of adversity; that’s not what’s being implied here. What it does mean is that the systems of power, when they perceive someone doing… let’s say something ‘subversive’, will give the benefit of the doubt to a white person over a black person, even when they’re doing the exact same thing.
That’s the theory, at least, and the film itself uses this divide for some of its humour. There’s a scene in an airport when Howery and Orji are heading home from Mexico, and Cena starts yelling that they’re drug smugglers/human traffickers, and then just laughing it off because, y’know, no one has ever gotten into serious trouble with law enforcement over terrorist jokes at a frickin’ airport. I have seen more than a few comedians try this over the years, and they were just as oblivious to the actual danger of pulling this shit because they’re… well, I think you can guess by this point.
It doesn’t help that there’s a lot of white saviour syndrome going on here, with Cena basically barging into everyone else’s lives and fixing their problems, regardless of whether or not anyone asked him to. The film tries to frame this as charming and well-meaning, even giving Cena a background as a Green Beret. And yeah, I can at least see some merit in the idea of him and Howery teaming up to disprove the elitist perspective of Howery’s soon-to-be father-in-law. But with the tone it’s all presented with, where all instances of obliviousness and genuinely uncool behaviour are written off as just being wacky, it’s less ‘bonding across racial lines’ and more ‘here comes the white man to save the day’. It’s… highly uncomfortable to sit through, and the jokes just do not work as a result. That, and this being the first film I’ve seen use an MF DOOM song since his passing didn’t help either.
I would very much rather not get into
pointing-of-fingers like this, but it’s more than a little telling that the
optics around the black couple are this out of whack, when the director
and five co-writers are all white men. It really does feel like it’s coming
from a very shallow pool of experience, none of which applies to the ideas it’s
ultimately commenting on, and it makes for a pretty exasperating misfire that
frequently had me going screw-face at how badly a lot of it lands. It’s like
watching someone say “I don’t see race” on a loop for 100 minutes
straight; it may be well-intended, but that doesn't mean it's missing the point any less.
I try and do my best to judge comedy films by their own terms, so when you set out to make a film that pokes at the divides between races and classes, I expect you to know what the fuck you’re talking about. Simple as.
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