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Big Momma’s House 2 (2006) 20th Century Fox 1 hr. 39 mins. Starring: Martin Lawrence, Nia Long, Emily Proctor, Mark Moses, Elton Le Blanc, Zachary Levi, Michelle Parylak, Sarah Brown Directed by: John Whitesell Big Momma's House 2 Rating:  
E-MAIL FRANK OCHIENG The filmdom of Martin Lawrence reminds one of a sour link of undercooked sausages—a string of bad movies attached one after the other with no sweet-tasting piece of pork in sight. Judging from Lawrence’s last box office dud in 2005’s Rebound, it doesn’t get better from here folks. So what should the likes of a desperate Lawrence do when his past movie credits are about as steady and stable as Big Momma balancing her bulk on stringy yarn posing as tight rope? Why you revisit your past successful big screen endeavors in a flaccid sequel looking to milk the inexplicable popularity of its five year-old predecessor, silly! Lawrence gleefully returns to his trusty fat suit and wig as his hapless alter ego FBI agent Malcolm Turner goes undercover in the insufferable and imbecilic Big Momma’s House 2. Who in the world was clamoring for this high calorie comedy of embarrassment? Rest assured that Lawrence’s minstrel thunder-thigh heroine isn’t exactly a morale booster in the positive image department for sassy-talking, big-boned black woman (or any woman of size for that matter). True, Big Momma’s House 2 will be excused as a wacky farce and gives us the awkward permission to laugh at the running sight gag of an outlandishly hefty housekeeper. So the mountainous Momma is up to her recycled, high-maintenance exploits, huh? Although low-brow and intentionally sophomoric in its intended humor, Big Momma’s House 2 is about as funny as a crash diet for anorexics. Director John Whitesell might as well admit to perpetrating his uninspired cinematic brand of a live action chubby-chasing joke. Painfully, this lame laugher is a series of tedious sketches featuring Lawrence straining for demeaning, cheap chuckles. Without an original bone in its beefy body, Big Momma’s House 2 coasts on its tiresome assortment of outrageous visual hysterics and stereotypical silliness. Some will cringe at this spineless vehicle that has nothing to offer but Lawrence haphazardly going through the over-the-top nonsensical motions. Clearly, screenwriter Don Rhymer must have wrote this foolishly fragmented script with a pen full of brown gravy. As absurd and blatantly offensive as Momma purports to be in its bloated skin, there’s not one genuine funny tidbit to behold in this chunky comedy. The movie finds Lawrence’s Malcolm Turner growing restless as he’s assigned to monotonous desk duty. With so many changes developing such as his wife expectant wife Sherrie’s (Nia Long) motherhood jitters, Malcolm desperately needs the excitement of his cherished undercover work. The opportunity arises for Malcolm to get back into the “disguise game” when he learns that an ominous computer worm has threatened to damage significant government intelligent files. So what better way to tackle this latest crisis than to don the persona of verbose Big Momma and get to the bottom of the critical matter? The key to Malcolm’s impromptu investigation leads to focusing on the Fuller family. In particular, Malcolm wants to target suspect computer programmer Tom Fuller (Mark Moses). By going under the jumbo-sized prosthetics of Momma’s giggly girth, Malcolm can cozy up to Fuller and his loopy wife Leah (Emily Proctor) as well as their problematic children. Even the family dog Poncho needs some therapy for his chronic displeasure. Predictably, Malcolm/Big Momma endears herself to these domesticated dunces while treating each inviting mishap as one frivolous adventure after another. Other than a valid reason for Lawrence to cash a paycheck and remain in the consciousness of undemanding moviegoers that inexplicably get a kick out of his overwrought antics, Big Momma’s House 2 has no real reason for existing creatively. With Whitesell’s hammy direction and Lawrence’s shameless mugging, Momma (excuse the pun) is a heavy burden to bear. The first film wasn’t anything to cut your throat over but at least it had some inspired lapses of desired lunacy. Here, this sparse second installment feels totally laborious in its random ribaldry. The comic sequences of watching Martin’s ultra-flabby septuagenarian getting bogged down in contrived chaos paints a convincingly dour portrait. See Momma backflip her enormous “groove thing” at a cheerleaders school function. See Momma wash the dog accidentally with perfume. See Momma boogie down with the kids to the beat of the music. See Momma’s unusual appetite at the beauty spa. See Momma in the company of shapely models as we smirk at the distinct physical comparisons. See Momma surf the turf. See excitable Momma examine the supple breasts of a braless curvaceous cutie. See Momma parody Baywatch as her severely roly poly frame rumbles down the beach in an expanding one-piece bathing suit as tightly-wound braids emerge from her huge noggin. Are you in uncontrollable stitches yet? Woefully degrading and uniformly dimwitted, Big Momma’s House 2 overstays its welcome by the near 100-minute running time. This floundering flick serves no purpose other than to remind folks what a throwaway clown Lawrence has become pertaining to his familiar on-screen schtick. Yeah, maybe wide boisterous black females are worth a gutless slaphappy scathing for undiscriminating masses that think this sort of pointless buffoonery is a knee-slapping riot. If so, then Martin Lawrence and his meaty-boned matron of mockery in Big Momma should justify their anemic funnybones to no end. Click here to comment on this review or post your own thoughts. Frank Ochieng © TheWorldJournal.com |
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