![]() Guest Critic Selection: KANGAROO JACK |
Frank Ochieng is a guest critic who also writes reviews for his own personal website, located here. To become a Guest Critic for CINEMA
2000, please notify David Keyes.
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Written
by FRANK OCHIENG
1 hr. 27 mins. Rating: * ½ stars (out of 4 stars) Whats more innocuous than a family-friendly farce meant to conjure up wacky aimless laughs for a less-than-demanding movie audience? However, when this very same family-friendly farce happens to be a nagging, nonsensical, insufferable and profoundly pointless pseudo-kiddie comedy then folks weve got problems! In director David McNallys boorish and feverishly formulaic chucklefest Kangaroo Jack, were hopelessly treated to a numbing dose of fruitless sight gags, belabored high jinks and a jittery computer-generated moronic marsupial thats too cutesy for his own good. Relentlessly gimmicky as it is needlessly tepid, McNallys doltish narrative doesnt deliver the inspired slapstick intended to be charming in this goofy and grating vehicle. Interestingly enough, the hackneyed high wire act behind the misguided mayhem of Kangaroo Jack is none other than the ringmaster of raucous (or if you prefer, the titan of testosterone) action-oriented movie producer Jerry Bruckheimer (Con Air, The Rock, Armageddon). Alright, so this Down Under dud isnt the most objectionable and forgettable concept since the AMC Pacer but its awfully close. This brainless ordeal is approximately 90 minutes of sketchy, flavorless shtick going nowhere fast. Kangaroo Jack tries its best to appease all the factions of its audience by appealing to the masses on various levels. But the movie isnt savvy or shrewd enough to mesh all its diverse cobbled together components into juggling genres. In a clumsy effort, Kangaroo Jack only hints at being a viable showcase of hilarity. The outrageousness produces a junk food-eating, Sugar Hill Gang enthusiast rapping kangaroo (he sings the legendary 80s rap groups signature song Rappers Delight-how hilarious, huh?) thats geared toward the funnybone of the kiddies and their weary parents. For the women, the exotic setting of Australia serves as a travelogue for their indifferent partners who never seem take them anywhere special. Plus, its always a reliable move to sprinkle some mutual attraction between the attractive male and female lead stars. After all, the adolescent girls will buy this gesture without any reservations. And for the young and old guys, well they can either bask in the manly shenanigans of the cartoonish gangsters and gunplay or do some wishful thinking by discreetly ogling the films resident babe Estella Warren (Driven) dutifully providing the eye candy in this tired and tedious fable. Gee, theres something for almost everyone! Now thats very convenient, right? The premise follows the wayward trial and tribulations of Brooklyn-born buddies Charlie Carbone (Jerry OConnell, Joes Apartment, Tomcats, Mission to Mars) and Louis Booker (Anthony Anderson). After screwing up a mob-related financial transaction put into play by his New York mob boss stepfather Sal Maggio (Christopher Walken), lanky Charlie and his puffy sidekick Louis are sent packing to Australia as unlikely bagmen for the Mafia. Their mission: delivering some hot loot to a suspicious contact in The Land Down Under who goes by the name of Mr. Smith. The tumultuous tandem, as expected in any arbitrary and anemic witless buddy-buddy caper, experience the usual setbacks in their ability to pull off the important job. And thus the zany antics are presented courtesy of this weak-kneed contemporary salt-n-pepper Laurel and Hardy pairing. Without elaborating on all the dimwitted details that lead up to the madness, Ill spare you and give the cliff notes version. As Charlie and Louis drive the dusty Outback trails in a stolen jeep, they come across the carcass of a stillborn kangaroo. Feeling giddy enough to exploit the situation of the dazed animal for their personal amusement, the buffoon Louis decides to dress up the two-legged, hop-a-long hairball with his good luck jacket for kicks. Not only is this critter classified as a kangaroo, it also doubles as a possum--as in playing possum. The stunned talking creature recovers then hastily takes off into the sunset while donning simple-minded Louiss jacket on its back. This is an unfortunate incident because the stash of money the guys are suppose to hand over is in the pockets of the disappearing jacket. Thus the two knuckleheads must track down the slick beast otherwise their bacon is cooked-yet again! It isnt long before the haphazard heroes bump into the shapely Jessie (the aforementioned Estella Warren), a wildlife organization worker that teams up with them in order to lasso the shifty verbose animal. Oh yeah, we shouldnt exclude the drunk-as-a-skunk pilot named Blue (Bill Hunter) who also assists in the hunt for the crafty kangaroo. He apparently represents one of the many comic relief elements thats suppose to make us grin at the fact that Kangaroo Jack is probably more sympathetic and intelligent than the pesky humans constantly hounding him. And so the adventure continues with the harried threesome being thwarted by Kangaroo Jack while trying their best to elude the riff raffish forces led by Maggios main henchman Frankie (Michael Shannon). Kangaroo Jack is a convincingly lame road picture with a rocky, unsettling path. Although the movie wants to be uproariously naughty and unconventional, its dumb approach to the many nitwitted scenes leaves not a lot to be desired. McNally doesnt seem to have any novel idea as to how to instill his clueless and cockeyed comedy with any freshness or insightful frivolity. Instead, he finds the solution of heightening his frenzied flick with boisterous boneheads that are more obnoxious than they are an acquired taste. Theres absolutely nothing riotous or challenging here. McNally stocks up on the banal (and obvious) smirky references regarding beer-guzzling Aussies and baby-eating dingoes amidst this sophomoric romp session. With plum ditties involving flatulence humor, a budding but drab ounce of romance and outlandish chaos concerning errand transportation (out-of-control airplanes, predictably unfunny car chases, farting camels, etc.), Kangaroo Jack is about as amusing as picking your teeth with a boomerang. As the hip hop and breakdancing titular protagonist, Kangaroo Jack isnt particularly a charismatic or memorable CGI concoction. At least the finicky huskies in last years lackluster canine comedy Snow Dogs were as enjoyable as they were adorable in the things they did and said in a hallucinatory haze. Even the live action Scooby Doo had some pop and dimension to him. But theres no spark or sense of amazement in what KJ demonstrates in addition to his exhausting and annoying routine reminiscent of a blustery Borscht Belt comic with a pouch. As a comedic couple, both OConnell and Anderson have the smooth timing of a broken watch. All they do is mug and yell shamelessly before the camera and expect the audience to get a rise out of their kooky on screen occurrences in knee-slapping fashion. If anything theyre irritating, not insanely witty. Walken, a dependable and delicious devil when hes given good material to work with, is trapped as a transparent stock character in the form of a humorless, run-of-the-mill underworld villain. As if Walken had enough to worry about regarding his association with the putrid Country Bears, he can proudly add the woeful Kangaroo Jack to his cinematic resume. Warren, in the meantime, serves her purpose as the token bland beauty involved in this whole unpalatable mix. Its too bad that Kangaroo
Jack is a faceless and overwrought farcical spectacle that wants to cater
to the kids but disguises its patchy skin in the overtones of a tiresome,
inane adult comedy. Since it is the beginning of a brand new year, one
would at least anticipate the floodgates to open with halfway decent comedies
to meet our movie-going expectations. With the arrival of this special
effects-driven mawkish marsupial and his hapless human co-stars, those
dreams were dashed almost instantly. © David Keyes, CINEMA 2000. To keep the content of these pages at near-perfect quality, please e-mail the author here if the above review contains any spelling or grammar mistakes. |