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Review Uploaded
07/28/03

2 hrs. 24 mins.
Starring: Will Smith, Martin Lawrence, Gabrielle Union, Jordi Molla, Joe Pantoliano, Peter Stormare
Directed by: Michael Bay

Rating: * ½ stars (out of 4 stars)

Being bigger doesn’t necessarily mean being better. However, this has always been the film philosophy of frenzied filmmaker Michael Bay. After trivializing a piece of American history with his World War II clunker Pearl Harbor for the giddy teenybopper mainstream movie audience a few years back, Bay (along with his trusty collaborator-in-crime Jerry Bruckheimer) is at the helm once again delivering yet another brainless and boisterous formula that’s sure to make one’s hair curl on their arms.

This time, we’re in for a second helping of the hectic buddy-buddy antics of the Will Smith-Martin Lawrence connection in the hair-brained hyperactive sequel Bad Boys II. That’s right, folks…Smith and Lawrence are back in full force as the unruly Miami-based narcotics law enforcers out to cause chaos and confusion as they soak up the playground of pandemonium. For those that relished the inexplicable success of the rabblerousing original that overdosed on the showboating agenda of Smith and Lawrence previously will probably be pleased by the elevated noisy nonsense that this movie proudly stocks up on in every one of its shameless frames. Whether enduring the insufferable actions of the leading players’ manufactured give-and-take comedic squabbling, experiencing some hormonal happiness over the curvy babes being served up as convenient eye candy or aimlessly feasting your eyes on the empty-minded explosions and choreographed car wrecks meant to rev up the testosterone juices, Bad Boys II is a vacuous vehicle that struts its stuff without any convincing ounce of concrete involvement whatsoever.

The preposterous packaging behind Bad Boys II is intentional and will purposely satisfy the gratuitous quotient that some will deem perversely pleasurable. And yet with all the flexing of its monotonous movie muscle, this crime-ridden actioner has no real distinction amongst the regurgitated urban yarns we’ve all seen time after time before. The stage is set for the otherwise built-in familiar premise. We are invited to tag along as we follow the jolting joyride of Mike Lowry (Smith) and Marcus Burnett (Lawrence) as they engage in a trigger-happy case regarding the nefarious activities of a local Cuban drug lord named Johnny Topias (Jordi Molla from Blow) whose ambitious plans are to import and distribute the potent Ecstasy along the Florida borderlines.

Apparently the off-kilter personalities of the drug-busting officers are as colorfully explosive as the mayhem they try to curtail (and often contribute to) professionally. Smith’s Lowry is the cocky-minded hotshot heartthrob that’s willing to invite adventure whenever it graciously presents itself. And Lawrence’s Burnett is the “responsible” family man forced to participate in the raucous world of dubious double-dealing. Together, these “bad boys” are bound at the hip of their harried happenings. Gee, isn’t that special, huh?

The same ole transparent plot applies and the movie doesn’t differ much from the 1995 edition. Joe Pantoliano is back as the Miami police chief with the clichéd mannerisms as the traditional flustered superior trying to hogtie his treasured but uncontrollable charges from the unnecessary mischievousness that bombards the supercops on the mean streets. Although Tea Leoni is the only principle character missing from the original flick, the appetizing Gabrielle Union (Deliver Us From Eva) fills her shoes adequately as the curvy catalyst caught up in the mockery. Union plays an undercover DEA operative working the same case as her brother Marcus. More importantly, she secretly gets to play footsies with her sibling’s brash partner Mike thus creating a potential riff that already exists in their tag-teaming partnership. And Theresa Randle is on board once again as Marcus’s patient wife. It’s too bad the anemic script doesn’t give her more input to work with, though. Then again, the script doesn’t give ANYONE the latitude to shine appropriately as the actors are helpless pawns to the sensationalized foolishness that overrides this overexposed rambunctious display.

To even suggest that this Bay-Bruckheimer protrusive project doesn’t incorporate anything remotely compelling in terms of its scarce narrative is somewhat of a waste of time to try and convince its blinded enthusiastic fans. Somehow, Bay and his fellow moviemakers seem to feel that the aimless violent tics that this freewheeling flick embraces so casually is the ultimate rush that will fuel the satisfaction of devoted Smith/Lawrence fanatics. And sadly, this is probably the intentional case as the old reliable standby sentiment dictates: “lighten up, dude…it’s supposed to be a fun-filled brazen popcorn thriller not meant to challenge your cerebral forethought!” Yeah…whatever!

Bad Boys II is nothing more than an empty-headed escapist release to take advantage of the popular pairing of Smith and Lawrence and have them traipsing all over the big screen in an excitable tired and lame attempt to rack up the big banal box office bucks for the restless urban crowd. Recklessly bombastic and needlessly brutal with its sickening silliness regarding scattered corpses, disjointed blood-hungry sequences that celebrate the gore in nonchalant fashion, showy gunplay to heighten the meaty action-packed suspense and a generous portion of female flesh enough to make Hugh Hefner profusely sweat with obvious approval, this rowdy showcase feels so forced and arbitrary beyond belief.

Despite the clumsy and childish dialogue coupled by the excessive mugging and synthetic bravura by the movie’s flashy leading players, Bad Boys II will inevitable enjoy its overwrought static because it’s the kind of diversion that non-selective mainstream movie audiences crave with sheer anticipation. Moviemaker Bay and producer Bruckheimer may be guilty of shoving this repetitive junk food down our throats but they cannot be blamed too much-they’re only catering to the misguided celluloid diet of their supportive fan base. Consequently, this is all truly unbelievable to say the least.