Big Momma’s House 2

 
If I hadn’t had the experience of seeing the atrociously bad “Looking For Comedy in the Muslim World” the week prior, perhaps I’d have thought “Big Momma’s House 2” was utterly and entirely awful. I can’t be sure that’s the case, but that’s about as much benefit of the doubt as I’m willing to give here.

There’s only one purpose behind a sequel like this: money. Let’s assume for a second, however, that I care about how much money a film makes. Why would I make, more or less, the same film twice? Have I completely run out of ideas? There are plenty of writers in Hollywood pitching their ideas to studios. So why this? Well, that’s quite simple. It’s easier to milk a familiar cow.

How easy? Well, the previous installment cost $30 million to make and pulled in $171 million—$25 million of which was made the opening weekend. Maybe I’m entirely too optimistic, but I figure studio executives have got to be thinking, “Hey, now that’s a nice profit… let’s take the money, run, and move on to something fresh.” No. The reasoning here is that audiences wanted this, they’ll go for more of the same. The problem is, they’re absolutely right. Oh, audiences may not actually have asked for a “Big Momma’s House 2,” but they’ll settle for it.

What exactly are they settling for? Well, let’s see…

In this case, Martin Lawrence reprises the role of FBI agent Malcolm Turner. He’s married to Sherry Pierce (Nia Long) and, for personal reasons, has taken leave from his field duty for a desk job. However, the movie needs a device to lure him back into action as the spitting image of Hattie Mae Pierce, aka Big Momma.

The plot device, which consists of a shady scheme to hack government computers, involving Tom Fuller (Mark Moses), is really just ancillary to the film’s real purpose—exploiting stereotypes. Yes, Tom’s wife Leah (Emily Procter) is the activity-itis suffering soccer mom whose motivation seems to be, as Momma astutely observes, keeping her kids so busy so they don’t notice the parents are never around. There’s the youngest kid who’s not only mute but also the hospital bill waiting to happen, the middle child who gets picked on and can’t dance, and the oldest—the rebel daughter—who wants to date a boy just over eighteen.

Turner’s previous partner was killed by the people involved in the hacking scheme, and he wants revenge. His chief, of course, doesn’t want him on the case because it’s too personal and he thinks Turner will botch the case. So, the detective finds a way to get a job as a nanny with the Fullers, sabotaging the FBI’s plans to install one of their own undercover agents. Beyond that, there’s not much use discussing the plot, because to disclose anything about it is to jog one’s memory to every comedy-caper-with-a-heart ever lanced out of the boil on the ass of Hollywood.

The main character is really a rehash of eccentric (that’s being generous), overweight grandmothers past—think Eddie Murphy and Robin Williams. Is it when a comedian’s wellspring of original material has run dry that they scamper for refuge behind a character this easy to portray? Let’s see… all you need is a fat suit, a wig, and an audience that’s in on the gag so they can chortle when the guy is tested by various physical obstacles, come-ons from males with a penchant for fat grannies, and beauties thrown by plot convenience into close proximity to our drag queen protagonist for some monochromatic, i.e. cheap, sexual tension.

Do you want to bet that the youngest kid, who hasn’t spoken since birth, will magically utter words before the end of the film? Do you suppose he’ll be inspired by Big Momma to do so? Do you suppose his first few words risk blowing Big Momma’s cover? You’re seeing into the future now. Next, we’ll cover the basics of Jedi mind tricks… like predicting that in order to win the family’s confidence, Turner will have to actually work toward being a good nanny, FBI’s secret counterhacker weapon is a preteen kid, or that when the big bust is about to go down, Big Momma will need to rescue Molly, the oldest daughter, from the clutches of a seedy nightclub she was dumb enough to go to (anyone remember “Uncle Buck?”).

There’s an audience for this film, and it’s not my business to question their interest in it. I am, however, curious about the internal logic of some of the characters. Consider, for example, the fact that Turner, whose desk job involved promoting safety to children in gradeschools, helps the middle daughter’s cheerleading team (There are elementary schools that have these? Why?) learn to dance even more suggestively to songs like Sir Mix-A-Lot’s “Baby Got Back” (which was already selected by the school’s instructors, not Turner). Ironically, Turner reprimands Molly, fifteen-years old, for wanting to date a nineteen-year old.

Aside from all the gratuitous shots of scantilly-clad women, the innuendo and the stereotypes of black grandmothers, white yuppies and white-collar criminals, and Chihuahuas who watch soaps and drink tequila (wait, that’s actually something I haven’t seen)… After 99 minutes of pure boredom, the only thought this dreck provoked in my mind was this: Despite the fact that it’s made plainly obvious Turner wears a cloth and foam fat suit, he goes to the beach and to the spa. Where did the full-body skin-toned prosthetic come from?

Early in the film, Turner says, “I never turn down an assignment.” Is that a subliminal message to the audience to dutifully attend one stale comedy after another? Folks, this is your chance to decline this assignment and demand better entertainment.

Big Momma’s House 2• Dolby® Digital surround sound in select theatres • Running Time: 99 minutes • MPAA Rating: PG-13 for some sexual humor and a humorous drug reference. • Distributed by Twentieth Century Fox Film Corp.