The Hangover

Ugh. Ugggggghhhhh. Where's the Pepto?

It was like one of my worst hangovers. The one where I stayed in bed all day and didn't get up until 6:45 in the evening. When I couldn't even keep toast in my system for more than a few minutes.

Where my time at the bar was carefully concealed as "fun" and was only a precursor to the hell that was soon to follow.

It was bad.

I was really excited to see this film, mostly because I have been a fan of Zach Galifianakis for years. (Have you seen his Comedy Central special? Hilarious! Out Cold? Hilarious!) And Bradley Cooper has been on my radar since "I Want to Marry Ryan Banks" (yes, another glorious ABC Family movie). I was pumped, and perhaps my expectations were too high, especially after the barrage of good reviews.

And The Hangover *was* funny at times... but completely forgettable. Maybe that's because every single joke was stolen from previous films, the plot was obvious and cliche, and I just don't find Asian stereotypes funny (have you seen Mickey Rooney's go as Mr. Yunioshi in Breakfast at Tiffany's? This one was worse. And shame on the filmmakers, because at least Tiffany's was made in the 60s).

I did laugh - mostly at Galifianakis. Jeffrey Tambor's (Arrested Development) screen time as the bride's father was great, but lacking. And Cooper looked absolutely delectable in his black on black suit, but to me, the movie was just a classier, slightly less juvenile rehash of Dude, Where's My Car. Because not only could they not remember the night before, they couldn't find their (borrowed from the bride's father) car.

Of course they couldn't.

Doug (Justin Bartha) wedding is just a few days away, and his buddies are taking him to Vegas. (Really?) Phil (Cooper) is a slightly sleazy beat-down family man and Stu (Ed Helms) is completely emasculated by his girlfriend. And then there's Alan (Galifianakis) - Doug's soon-to-be brother-in-law - tagging along. He's a little... slow. And bizarre.

But lo! After a communal drink on the hotel roof, we cut to three of the four buddies passed out in a completely wrecked suite with a chicken, a tiger, and fewer teeth. But wait! Where's Doug? He's getting married tomorrow! (WHO CARES.)

Even Mike Tyson singing Phil Collins didn't do it for me.

And that's just it - the stunt casting, the ridiculous plot, the forced jokes, and the horrifying racial stereotypes? One, I can handle. Even two. But yet, everyone else (save Mike, who I dragged kicking and screaming to the theater, and was sweet enough to not throw too many "I told you so's at me" on the drive home) has liked this film.

I guess what it boils down to is that I am not a late-twenties former frat boy. And I'm okay with that.