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Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice (2016)
A Film I Liked Against My Better Judgement
I think it's only fair that I elucidate this from the outset: I am now, have been, and always will be in love with Superman. Ever since my grandfather handed me a massive anthology of 40s, 50s, and 60s era Man of Steel comics while bored in second grade, I was hooked. I would force my mother to drive me out to Captain Comic in New Hyde Park to pick up whatever old story arcs were cheapest, I prized my Superman HeroClix above all else, I even had The Man of Tomorrow's logo emblazoned on cufflinks during my bar mitzvah. While watching the titular comic book icons duke it out, a battle raged on in my own mind between my inner child and the objective, wannabe film critic.
Two years after the events of Man of Steel Superman (Henry Cavill) faces criticism from the media due to collateral damage that seems to follow him wherever he goes. One of those critics, the upstart Gotham-based vigilante known as Batman (Ben Affleck), attempts to formulate a way to fight the otherworldly menace while combating his own inner demons. All the while, Metropolis magnate Alexander Luthor (Jesse Eisenberg) hunts for kryptonite and tinkers with the remains of General Zod's decaying spaceship.
In all candor, that summary scratches the plot's surface as thoroughly as a raindrop scratches the surface of Mount Rushmore. The film is an unwieldy mess of converging and diverging story threads thrown together by David Goyer and Chris Terrio, oversaturated to the point of bursting, even at a healthy two-and-a-half-hour run time. Too many characters are hurled at us, apropos of nothing, with a minimum of introduction and backstory, and where would we be without Zack Snyder's famous use of unbearably heavy-handed Jesus imagery. The word "god" is used so much, I wasn't sure I hadn't stumbled into a theater playing Miracles from Heaven by mistake.
But who among us can say they didn't see any of that coming? I could have written the previous paragraph back in 2014, when the film was first announced. What I didn't expect was how much I was able to smile through all of the stupidity the movie threw at me.
You cough up fifteen dollars at the box office to see Batman fight Superman, and to see if Mr. Snyder's special effects team can deliver the action. They do so in spades. The movie looks remarkably good, and the fight sequences feel fresh and imaginative in a way that startled me, especially after the recent slew of Marvel movies I've seen. One Batman dream sequence in the desert is especially awe inspiring in its cinematography and choreography. Even when the movie isn't presenting you with ass-kicking visuals, the movie doesn't drag. You might groan at the dialogue, and a cut might confuse you, but you'll always find yourself engaged.
Despite the movie's best attempts to make me hate it, I couldn't. The movie awoke in me a sense of childlike wonder and amazement that not even "The Force Awakens" could evoke. Wonder Woman made me laugh with excitement, and the cameo clips of various Justice League members brought me back to elementary school, when I would pit my various superhero figurines against one another. This film is the tangible embodiment of those mythical daydreams we'd have as kids, staring out the window as our teachers droned on about long division. As a critic, I can't, in good conscience, recommend "Dawn of Justice," but as an unabashed DC fanboy I sure as hell can.
10 Cloverfield Lane (2016)
A Drive to "10 Cloverfield Lane"
Cloverfield, a film I watched for the first time this week, is terrible. It is a multilayered mess that features obnoxious acting, a story littered with ruinous plot holes, headache inducing cinematography, and all the tension of your great-grandma's wrinkly skin. In short, it's generally unwatchable. 10 Cloverfield Lane is the sequel (or, as J.J. Abrams calls it, "blood relative") that no one asked for, constructed in secrecy to generate hype that would never have erupted otherwise. I expected nothing of this movie, but what I got was a pleasant, if not somewhat mixed, surprise.
Michelle (Mary Elizabeth Winstead) likes to run away from her problems. After getting into a fight with her boyfriend, she takes a long, country drive that leads to her getting t-boned on a highway in the middle of nowhere, and crashing into unconsciousness. She wakes up in the underground bunker of the enigmatic Howard (John Goodman), who tells her that the world has been decimated by a bio-attack perpetrated by an unknown party. However, things start to grow uneasy as Michelle discovers Howard might not be who he says he is.
10 Cloverfield Lane is strikingly different from its older brother in that it lacks any real kaiju, and is set up more as a psychological thriller, not a creature feature. Which makes sense, once you discover that the film was conceived by Josh Campbell and Matthew Stuecken as "The Cellar," an entity totally separate from the Cloverfield universe. It wasn't until J.J. Abrams got a hold of it (and integrated aliens), and Oscar-nominee Damien Chazelle doctored it that it became the film we know today.
I say this because "The Cellar" is a really good movie. It's possibly the most gripping suspense tale I've seen since Ex Machina, and it's equally intimate and self-contained. Accompanied by rock solid acting and directing, these elements allow for a laser-focused story that shepherds us through the uncertainty and fear felt by Michelle. I can't remember the last time I genuinely had no clue where a flick was headed, and couldn't tell who was to be believed. It was an unsettling experience that put a big, dumb, anxious smile on my face.
The last twenty minutes, however, were clearly tacked on to earn the Cloverfield connection, and in that regard, the ending earns its name. By that, I mean it sucks. It creates several loose ends that feel upsettingly unsatisfying, and the lazy, hackneyed, unbelievable conclusion betrays everything the film has been working towards. You feel cheated as an audience member, like you wasted the previous hour and a half, and it's unfair to the great movie it's leaching off of.
It's unjust to attack the ending too harshly though, as "The Cellar" would, most likely, never have seen the light of day had Mr. Abrams not decided to incorporate it into a pre-established universe. It's just a damn shame to see a great film muddied by modern production and distribution methods. You could certainly do worse at the theatre, but you could also do better. You might as well try to find somewhere that's still showing The Witch, or stream The Exorcist on Netflix if you want your satisfying thriller fix.
Zootopia (2016)
Wild for Zootopia
Maintaining a creepy mustache is a lifestyle choice. One of the unfortunate consequences of said lifestyle choice is being forced to feel awkward whenever you go see a children's movie, alone, in a dark theatre, filled to the brim with excited youths. Zootopia makes almost all of that awkwardness worth the trip.
Judy Hopps (Ginnifer Goodwin) is an ambitious, young bunny, looking to prove herself as the first rabbit police officer in the bustling metropolis of Zootopia. Seen as little more than meek prey by her coworkers, peers, and even her family, she must learn to overcome these prejudices, and work with Nick Wilde (Jason Bateman), a cunning fox, to crack an impenetrable case.
From Disney, you'd expect nothing less than top notch animation, and Zootopia undoubtedly delivers on that front. The colors are vibrant, playful, and inviting, as we move from dense, jungle rainforests, to blisteringly icy tundras, to urban cityscapes. The lighting, especially, is awe inspiring, specifically during Mr. Big's (Maurice LaMarche) daughter's wedding. It makes the entire sequence feel ethereal, if not like an altogether blatant homage to The Godfather.
The voice acting, too, is excellent. Idris Elba is an intimidating presence as Chief Bogo, and Ginnifer Goodwin is totally endearing and lovable in a role that could have, in lesser hands, devolved into something saccharine and obnoxious. The real standout, however, is Jason Bateman, who consistently reminds me how he is one of the most versatile and underrated workhorses in Hollywood. He delivers a brassy, jaded performance, that is somehow imbued with the charisma and charm of a young Robert Redford. Bateman's Nick Wilde is a total dick, but goddamn it if I don't love that dick.
As it claws tenaciously at greatness, Zootopia is tethered to the realm of merely good Disney films by its script. Sure, there are a handful of legitimately funny jokes (and one bizarrely out of place Breaking Bad reference) peppered in for some strong laughs, but the plot is generally predictable, and sticks to tried and true Disney formula. If that formula were perfectly executed, then all would be forgiven, but a sloppy, rushed third act, and an unbearably heavy-handed message that is handled with all of the nuance and discreetness with which crocodile might attack its prey, really hamper the film. It is almost cringe inducing at times, yet a slightly longer running time, and a little dialogue revision would have done the film a world of good.
Don't let me scare you off, though. Zootopia is a fine film that definitely earns your money. Whether you're a parent looking for a cheap diversion that'll entertain you and your kids, or a student looking for a harmless, inoffensive flick to watch after midterms, you could do far worse. Just promise me you won't go see Gods of Egypt.
The VVitch: A New-England Folktale (2015)
Bewitching
I haven't been scared of witches since
well, never. As I child, I was more frightened of creepy dolls and serial killers (probably the result of a premature viewing of Child's Play); witches just reminded me of Maggie Smith dressed up as Minerva McGonagall. While watching Robert Eggers's The Witch, I was genuinely creeped by witches for the first time in my life.
In early 17th century New England a puritanical pilgrim, William, (Ralph Ineson) is at odds with his plantation's church. In an act of religious pride he moves his family outside the plantation's walls and into the unsettled Northeastern wilderness. However, when William's daughter, Thomasin (Anya Taylor-Joy), allows the newborn to suddenly vanish, the family begins to descend into chaos.
Going into the theater, I was anticipating reviewing The Witch as a genre film, but don't be fooled by the title; Eggers (the film's rookie writer and director) has far loftier aspirations. The script is thematically dense and every element of the film, from the lighting to the camera movement and placement, compliments those themes. The dialogue, too, is, at times, almost impenetrable and undeniably ambitious. Don't expect cheap jump scares or a threadbare plot.
This, alone, would keep The Witch firmly entrenched in the realm of pretentious art films, but in Eggers, and his entire team's execution of these ideas, the work is magnificently elevated. It is a tonal masterpiece. From the beginning montage, where we are introduced to the world of the supernatural, to the ending's chillingly satisfying final image, you can see the meticulous calculation that went into the making of this movie. The result is a slow burn that never feels boring, but instead leaves you waiting, in anxious anticipation, for a moment of terrifying climax. Moments like that are why we go out to the movies. There's nothing better than that sense of fulfillment, especially when it's tinged with a lingering psychological thrill.
My lone misgiving with the film, though, lays with the acting, Perhaps, in his concentrating on the stunning visuals, Eggers ignored his child actors, who periodically seem lost in the script's archaic diction. The adults are fine, and I was mesmerized by Ineson's gruff, haunting voice, but young Mercy (Ellie Grainger) and Jonas (Lucas Dawson) are occasionally grating, and distractingly so. Even Caleb (Harvey Scrimshaw), who nails his important exorcism scene, falls flat on a few of the lower-key scenes. Taylor-Joy is the lone exception. She is mesmerizing throughout, and I wouldn't be surprised if she becomes a breakout star as a result of her work here.
Those few hiccups won't ruin the film for a student looking for an interesting, new scary movie to occupy a study break, though, and for cinephiles searching for the next, modern horror classic, The Witch is your ticket.
Deadpool (2016)
Don't Let the Fanboys Get to You
I remember stumbling into my father's office one day as he was editing footage of a thirteen- year-old boy's Bar Mitzvah. He was trying to figure out what to do with this horrible chunk of film wherein the boy and his friends were passing around a microphone, shouting any and every moronic, inane thing their brains could come up with. I recently rewatched bits of that footage under a new name: Deadpool.
Wade Wilson (Ryan Reynolds), former Special Forces operative turned gun-for-hire, finds the love of his life, Vanessa (Morena Baccarin). They understand each other, they have great fun and great sex together, and Wade is the happiest he's ever been. That is, until he inexplicably develops late-stage cancer throughout his body, and randomly leaves his girlfriend in the middle of the night to participate in some super secret experimental procedure that will cure him. The procedure turns him into an ugly freak, but grants him extraordinary healing powers, prompting Wade to seek revenge on the man who changed him, and win back his girl.
The biggest problem Deadpool has is Deadpool himself. For some reason, people seem to mistake his rampant profanity and poorly cultivated sexual humor as comedy, because it comes from the mouth of a comic book protagonist. I thought we had matured from beyond that point. I thought that Watchmen, a product of the 80s, proved that we could expect more from our superheroes. Why people choose to settle for comedy that was stale when we were middle schoolers, I don't know, but I think it bears mentioning that Deadpool doesn't tell jokes. He just curses and makes half polished "that's what she said" quips. His breaking the fourth wall shatters any sense of immersion a viewer might have experienced, and while Godard gets a pass on such antics because he's not directing story-driven action films, Tim Miller gets no such pass. Similarly, Deadpool's discussing the actors who play other X-Men characters is beyond frustrating. I want to grab the scriptwriters and scream at them. What kind of universe is this where Ryan Reynolds references himself, but doesn't acknowledge that he, himself, is currently playing Wade Wilson? I hear the argument all the time that all of this is satire. Deadpool comics exist to lampoon preexisting tropes and archetypes, but satire requires a point of view, which Deadpool ultimately lacks. In actuality, the film succumbs to the same trite stereotypes it pretends to transcend.
All that aside, there is still a considerable amount in this movie to like. Most notably, Wade and Vanessa's love story, prior to the ill conceived revenge plot. Reynolds plays Wade with charisma and energy, and Baccarin reciprocates in turn. Their characters are engagingly quirky, and some of the most well crafted and cinematic jokes come during these scenes. One scene in particular, which takes place in an arcade, stands out as my favorite sequence in the entire movie.
Unfortunately, when your movie is called Deadpool, and Deadpool is nothing more than an obnoxious man-child who leans so heavily on the crutch of generic, crass, uninspired R-rated humor, it's hard to look too fondly upon the film as a whole. Don't succumb to the fanboy hype. Realize Deadpool for the manipulative, immature rehash it is.
The Peanuts Movie (2015)
It's a Good Movie, Charlie Brown
I am not the target demographic for this film. I never watched any of The Peanuts' holiday specials on TV, and I didn't religiously read the comic strip, so I have no nostalgic ties. Heck, I spent last weekend watching three films about child soldiers. I'm a cynic, and a pessimist, and I have a cold heart, and gosh-darn it if I didn't love this movie.
In case you've been living under a rock since the fifties, allow me to give you a brief introduction to Charlie Brown, Snoopy, and the rest of the Peanuts gang. In 1950, Charles Schulz introduced the world to an elementary-school-aged, hard-luck loser named Charlie Brown. Since then, he and his pals, including his dog Snoopy, the bird Woodstock, Sally, Linus, and Lucy, have appeared in countless comic strips, the occasional television special, and even a musical. They've endeared themselves to children and adults alike, the world over, with their pluck, and endearing personalities. The move to the silver screen in CGI was only inevitable.
Surprisingly, this works really well. The animation is smooth and simplistic, never garish or obnoxious. Sure, Snoopy looks a little furrier than he did in the comic strips, and maybe some of the textures look a little more detailed than we're used to, but the world still feels uniquely and authentically Peanutty. That is, at least, for the 2D version; I can't speak for the 3D effects.
What really makes the movie tick is undoubtedly, and expectedly, Charlie Brown himself. His character is a tried and true formula, and you can't help but root for him. He's a tragic hero, destined to fail. We know this, but the theater unfailingly utters an audible moan every time the world rains on his parade. Likewise, his growths and small victories are always and truly heartwarming. The film manages to deftly walk a very fine line of sweetness, never once wandering into the land of twee, groan-inducing shlock.
The interludes of Snoopy's imagined quarrels with the Red Barron do, unfortunately, drag, and seem to exist for the sole purpose of padding out the film's brief running time. It's nice to hear Bill Melendez's squeaks and yelps come out of Snoopy and Woodstock, but the film could do without those sequences. Or at least a trimmed version. Similarly, the occasional pop music infused sequence doesn't always land, but that's easy to overlook when the on-screen action is so adorable.
Lifelong Peanuts fans will be sure to revel in this totally charming flick, and even if this is your virgin Peanuts experience, you'll laugh along too.
Hail, Caesar! (2016)
All "Hail"
Joel and Ethan Coen are serious auteurs who make serious movies, like "A Serious Man," and are meant to be taken seriously. So it's only fitting that their newest movie,"Hail, Caesar!," would be seriously funny.
Eddie Mannix (Josh Brolin) is tasked with maintaining the status quo for Capital Pictures, an early 1950s film studio. Over the course of twenty-four hours he must deal with the hugest star in his biggest film (George Clooney) being kidnapped, a popular leading lady (Scarlett Johansson) revealing that she is pregnant and unmarried, a self-important director (Ralph Fiennes) being saddled with a well meaning, yet out of place western star, and twin gossip columnists (Tilda Swinton and Tilda Swinton) hounding him at every turn.
If that sounds like way too much to cram into a brisk hour-and-a-half comedy, that's because it is. The movie doesn't dwell on any one subplot for too long, but instead gives us fun, often silly glimpses into scenes out of extinct Hollywood genres. Johansson dons a mermaid tail, and swims about in a synchronized dance routine straight out of a Lloyd Bacon flick. Channing Tatum plays Burt Gurney, a James Cagney stand-in, as he shows off his long dormant dancing skills in an amazingly homoerotic musical number that's infectiously charming. And Clooney, who plays the childish Baird Whitlock, somehow makes you believe that he's too ditzy to be on the set of a "Cleopatra" rip-off.
In spite of these seemingly unrelated vignettes, or more likely because of them, the odd political ramblings, or the momentary flashes of religious symbolism seem to carry a legitimate artistic weight. The movie has something to say about artistic freedom and the working class, and has strong nihilistic undertones, as most famously immortalized in the Coens' cult classic, "The Big Lebowski." What "Hail, Caesar!" is saying in specific, I couldn't tell you; I was too busy staring at Channing Tatum's feet. And his well toned ass.
That's not to say that the movie is a masterpiece. It doesn't reach the emotional heights of "Inside Llewyn Davis," and I don't know that it will ever be quite as quotable as "Lebowski" (though I will add "would that it were so simple" to my list of usable set phrases). Jonah Hill is criminally underutilized, and his comedic talents are almost entirely wasted. Likewise, Frances McDormand does virtually nothing, and seems to have a part in the film just because she's married to Joel. The former "Fargo" leading lady is relegated to the editing room, where she gets one sight gag, and is never seen again thereafter.
These gripes, however, are easily overlooked. There's so much fun crammed into every sequence, and every shot has some joke or sight gag to enjoy. Somehow, it's also thematically dense enough to make me want to see it again. And again. And again.
Besides, if Scarlett Johansson in a mermaid costume and Channing Tatum in a 1940s sailor outfit don't excite you, nothing in this review could have convinced you to see this movie anyway.
Krampus (2015)
Welcome Krampus
Bust out the eggnog and gingerbread cookies (perhaps seasoned with some festive herbal greenery). Krampus has come to town!
Max (Emjay Anthony) loves Christmas. Despite looking ten, he still believes in Santa Claus, and wants nothing more than a peaceful holiday filled with love and kindness. Unfortunately, his boorish aunt and uncle (Allison Tolman and David Koechner) and their diabolical children are coming over to spoil the season. What's worse, they brought obnoxious Aunt Dorothy (Conchata Ferrell) along. When dinner goes wrong, Max wishes his family would go away, and accidentally summons St. Nick's shadowy twin Krampus, who causes yuletide chaos for all.
If you've seen any advertising for Krampus, you've probably been lied to. It's being billed as a Christmas-themed horror flick, and if that's what you're expecting, you'll be disappointed. Go in expecting a semi-nonsensical, yet mindlessly entertaining cinematic concoction of comedy and thrills, and you'll have a good time.
Objectively, the film isn't a masterpiece. The script isn't particularly taut. Some of the jokes aren't funny. A few of the scares aren't spooky. The child actors aren't great to watch, and there's one flashback sequence that is, curiously, animated. It is, admittedly, visually jarring, and definitely a questionable directorial decision.
Despite all that, I (and the three people I saw this with) had a pretty good time. The adult cast doesn't phone the movie in, and they're all fairly charismatic. Fans of Parks and Recreation will get a kick out of seeing Adam Scott play the bumbling beta, and the above mentioned Koechner plays a convincingly churlish redneck. Take it from someone who spent last year in rural Virginia; I'm familiar with the type. There are enough successful gags and absurdities to earn the comedy label, and some of the monsters are interestingly designed and markedly disquieting. They do a good job of holding back Krampus, making his reveal pretty mesmerizing (a feat many monster movies struggle with). He, too, is well designed, and stands out from the crowded list of modern horror creations. At least aesthetically.
While I won't spoil it here, I feel I have an obligation to talk about the film's ending. It appears as tough the credits will roll about four times, and it's a bit of a roller-coaster. The endings go from interesting, to great, to frustratingly sophomoric, to frustratingly twee, to satisfying. Just hang in there until the final cut to black before passing judgement.
Of all the Christmas movies out right now, this is definitely the symbolic star atop the tree. If you're looking for a subversively merry movie, but have already seen The Nightmare Before Christmas thrice too often this year, grab some friends and check out Krampus. There are definitely worse ways to spend six bucks.
The Good Dinosaur (2015)
Animation Evolution, Plot Fossilization
DisneyPixar insists that you call this movie The Good Dinosaur. However, my snark tells me that a more appropriate title would have been The Pedestrian Dinosaur.
The newest offering from the beloved animation studio that gave us the Toy Story series, and most recently Inside Out, features a figuratively yellow and literally green dinosaur named Arlo (Raymond Ochoa), and his pet human, Spot (Jack Bright). The pair, separated from their families, go on an all too familiar adventure to find their way home.
The film, helmed by rookie director Peter Sohn and penned by sophomore Meg LeFauve, can't help but feel like lesser Pixar fare, on the level of Brave or the Cars films. The uneven tone and poor pacing, coupled with the less than taut script, give the film a mediocre quality, especially considering the greatness we've come to expect from DisneyPixar.
It isn't a mortal sin to be predictable, and not every film needs to revolutionize the industry. That being said, The Good Dinosaur can't escape from out of the shadows cast by its better, more innovate older siblings, like The Lion King. From Dumbo in particular, the film borrows a lot, including: the themes of family, belonging, and finding one's self, a smaller, braver sidekick aiding a young pariah of an animal, and a strong mother/son bond. The film even has its own pink elephants-esque sequence in which Arlo and Spot eat fermented peaches. It is hilariously out of place, albeit exceedingly brief.
I don't mean to say that the film is offensively bad; it simply isn't particularly remarkable. It attacks its subject matter from a juvenile perspective, without offering many laughs or interesting details for anyone older than thirteen. The voice performances aren't especially strong, and the characters aren't memorably cute. Arlo and Spot are no competition for the likes of Mike and Sully.
The film seems to exist as a glorified tech demo. One that DisneyPixar didn't feel like tinkering with anymore, but decided to wedge a story into and bill as a feature-length movie for very little children. The scenery is absolutely breathtaking and majestic, and special attention seems to have been given to the water effects, which are inarguably the best ever seen in an animated film.The photorealistic landscapes are in stark contrast with the oddly cartoony and largely undetailed characters, further strengthening my idea that the movie itself was merely an afterthought. If you took Arlo and Spot out of the film, nearly any frame could be hung in the MoMa without much backlash or argument.
Feel free to watch the flick on ABC Family in a couple of months, if you really like Pixar films. If you're just looking for a cute, short, animated story, try to find a theater that's still playing The Peanuts Movie instead.
Love the Coopers (2015)
The Fruitcake of Holiday Movies
Love the Coopers? I didn't. Neither will you.
The first holiday film of the year arrives with a monumental thud, despite an impressively decorated, and star-studded cast. The dramedy revolves around the matriarch of the Cooper clan (Diane Keaton), who tires to bring her misshapen family together for a final Christmas dinner, before her and her husband of forty years (John Goodman) divorce. Like Love Actually, we jump from storyline to storyline, as we chart the progress of each family member's trek homeward.
Unfortunately, comparing Love the Coopers to any film with the words "love," or "actually" in the title would be an insult to those movies (Love the Coopers being the exception that establishes the rule). Actual jokes with a real set-up and punchline are few and far between, and rarely land anyway. Coopers largely relies on out of place vulgarity in place of comedy, or utilizes site gags that it recycles until there is a permanent dent in the ground where the dead horse used to be.
As far as the movie's attempt at subversive drama, most of the characters are too poorly developed, or unrealistically written to be genuinely compelling. The script occasionally comes close to insight into some of these characters, but sheepishly walks away from the doorbell, instead of knocking down that door. The direction ranges from uninspired to downright disruptive of the film's flow, and the insistence on narrating every plot point and character trait before we actually get to see it, makes watching the film a formality.
There are, maybe, one or two laughs to be had, and perhaps two subplots are somewhat compelling. Bucky (Alan Arkin) and Ruby (Amanda Seyfried) share a couple of scenes in a diner that are at least watchable, and Arkin turns in fairly solid performance. The most fleshed out story belongs to the romance between Eleanor (Olivia Wilde) and Joe (Jake Lacy). There's a real chemistry between the two of them, and there seems to be genuine depth to their characters.There might be a good movie based on their few scenes, if Eleanor weren't such an insufferable jerk.
The real problem with Coopers is that it doesn't seem to have any fun, or good intention. I wouldn't mind the movie if it were just formulaic, and I can tolerate a bad movie. The reason that the film gave me a headache is because it seems to exist solely to grab the money out of your wallet. The film industry is undoubtedly a business, but at least disguise yourself; have some respect for your audience. By the film's end, you know it was sponsored by Southwest Airlines and McDonalds, and you know it went out of it's way to shamelessly appeal to every demographic (Anthony Mackie plays the generic black/gay guy). It's borderline offensive.
Please, for the sake of your health, and for the future of the cinema, stay away from Love the Coopers.