Film Review: A Bad Moms Christmas

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Absolute Gash

It’s taken a while for me to gather my thoughts on a Bad Moms Christmas because such was the anesthetising effect of it, all higher brain activity ceased in the hours and days after the screening. I don’t know how I got home from the cinema that day – there was concrete in my legs and I’d gone blind. What I do know is that the hurriedly processed Bad Moms sequel may be the most effective attack on Western culture by a foreign power in my lifetime.

Made with Chinese money, and undoubtedly a psy-op aimed at inducing docility in American cinemagoers, perhaps grooming them to welcome a liberating invasion force, this enfeebled festive erection killer kicks America while it’s down; a nation on its knees in the era of Trump, spat on, stamped on and resoundingly humiliated, perhaps due to some metaphorical activity involving urine. Between yawn inducing stretches of crudity and mawkish sentimentality surely lie subliminal cuts, augmenting and reinforcing the deep shame felt by an audience whose base instincts and intellectual laziness have celebrated then stoked to the point of awful self-awareness.

Once again we have Mila Kunis, Kristen Bell and Kathryn Hahn, without apology, impervious to wit, showcasing a kind of aggressive, masculine, locker room form of nomedy that’s been gender switched using copy and paste by writer/directors Jon Lucas and Scott Moore. Their script, which they originally wrote aged 12, is a series of blunt, one-note sketches, belched out in a bar and scribbled onto beer mats using burnt match heads.

One imagines they were as shocked as anyone by the first movie’s success and, under pressure from their Chinese paymasters to continue the agenda of national embarrassment begun there, and get the new movie into cinemas as quickly as production allowed, wrote the first stupid things that came into their heads, and this despite having run out of ideas half-way through the first movie.

Using the time honoured comedy franchise expansion device that is additional family members, Moms 2 adds older versions of the characters to induce a little plastic conflict and set the stage for the detoxifying, family restoration, sickly sweet finale that the filmmakers hope will wash away the stink of all those pussy and dick jokes, as well as other shock tactics like swearing kids and Christina Applegate.

Once Susan Sarandon starred in empowering fare like The Witches of Eastwick and Thelma and Louise. Now she’s playing Kathryn Hahn’s mother in one of the least edifying comedy sequels ever made. How bad is it? Well, let’s just say you’d have to make 200 Wonder Woman sequels to get rid of the taste and live another three centuries to see the cause of women in comedy and on film restored to 2017 levels. Worse still, the remake isn’t years away, but weeks. Daddy’s Home 2  is released in a fortnight.

Directed by: Jon Lucas and Scott Moore

Country: US

Year: 2017

Running Time: 104 mins

Certificate: 15 for degeneracy, jokes about balls, and the destruction of three promising careers.

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