The Bad Boys movies are basically ground zero for what
filmmaker Michael Bay is recognised for, and not just because the first film
served as his initial break into feature filmmaking. Watching it today, the
first Bad Boys contains so many quips and plot threads and, hell, even entire
characters that could only work in the 90’s, it surpasses the point of being
dated into being its own cultural artefact. A snapshot of a bygone era in
action cinema, one made easier to watch because Will Smith and Martin
Lawrence’s chemistry is that damn tight.
The second film is closer to the Michael Bay we all know
and… recognise, to the point where it’s so damn sophomoric that even the
energetic action scenes can be tough to watch. That and drilling Shake Ya
Tailfeather into the audience’s eardrums, a feat that has only served to deepen
my disdain for the bulk of Bay’s oeuvre.
I bring all this up not just as proof that I actually did my
homework this time around and watched the predecessors, but also to help set up
just how much of a left-hook this latest entry is. The Bad Boys films, whether
you like them or not, are classic wish-fulfillment action yarns, the kind where
accountability and good taste come second to being as ‘cool’ as possible. This
film ain’t like that. In fact, even for postmodern re-examination sequels, this
really pushes the boat out.
