Oh, the pain.
OK, kids, so imagine willingly selling your soul for little more than a cheap, forgettable laugh. Now envision if that one, cut-rate transmission of amusement were to be lost for all eternity somewhere along the way — leaving your endeavor at joviality completely meaningless.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is but one way of describing Big Mommas: Like Father, Like Son: “completely meaningless.”
Note how I said “one way of describing.” There are many other ways, as well — such as “dreadful,” “appalling,” “awful,” “NSFW,” and “Oh, the pain.” Oh, wait, I’m repeating myself, aren’t I? But then, it’s not like the folks behind Big Mommas: Like Father, Like Son weren’t repeating themselves.
For the record, I also prefer to define such travestying tripe as being like a really bad episode of Bosom Buddies mashed with the worst High School Musical entry — only of much shoddier quality. All one has to do now is throw in Ke$ha song onto the soundtrack, add some crappy musical numbers, and you could have a serious contender for “Most Unbearable Urban Comedy of the Year.”
Guess what? They did just that. And more.
While the first two Big Momma’s House flicks were rather unremarkable at best (read: bad), but Martin Lawrence has definitely hit rock bottom here (read: really bad). But, when one considers that Martin’s career hasn’t been on the ascending side of the hill lately — and that there is some serious competition goin’ in the “stupid comedies about black men dressing up as big black women” genre, too (oh, and thanks for that, Tyler Perry) — you can see why this third entry was produced.
Once again, Martin assumes the dual role of FBI agent Malcolm Turner and, whilst in a fat suit, Big Momma (he also co-produces). This time ‘round, though, Lawrence allows a great deal of the embarrassment fitted into this feature to be taken by his younger co-star, Brandon T. Jackson: a mid-twenties actor who plays the part of Turner’s 17-year-old stepson, Trent. Throughout this feature-length experiment in Virtual Embarrassment Technology, our leads go undercover at a girl’s art college in an attempt to retrieve the movie’s effortless effort at a plot before some big bad Russian villain dude with a poor accent named Chirkoff (er, why didn’t they just call him “Wankov” and have done with?).
But, that — like Big Mommas: Like Father, Like Son itself — is completely meaningless. And dreadful, appalling, and so on. The film’s real excuse is to swindle hard-earned money out of easily-amused people everywhere; opening the door of opportunity for Jackson to begin a whole new series of direct-to-video follow-ups. Hey, somebody might as well compete with the twenty films Tyler Perry puts out a week, right?
Of course they do! And, if the Georgia Department of Economic Development was backing your movie (why, is that a tax write-off I smell?), you probably wouldn’t have any qualms about selling your soul for a cheap laugh, either. But was it really necessary to include so many bad song-and-dance routines? Seriously, this movie breaks out into a horrible synchronized number every time it thinks it can get away with it, concluding with a god-awful end credits music video (one that could even give Rebecca Black a run for her money) complete with Martin Lawrence — still in drag — rapping. But don’t take my word: see (and suffer) for yourself…
Scary, huh? There’s even a soundtrack available for this movie which markets that particular piece of rubbish as an actual song. Who do they think they are? Ke$ha?
Not being content with simply releasing this abomination of a movie as-is, the folks at Fox Home Entertainment have seen fit to issue Big Mommas: Like Father, Like Son is several forms — such as this Blu-ray/DVD/Digital Copy Combo that includes the original PG-13 theatrical version of the film (this was released to theaters?) and an unrated extended version as well! Oh, joy of joys, kiddies: I can suffer twice over the same peccadillo of a picture.
That said, the video quality in this 1080p/AVC presentation is pretty damn good. The movie is presented in a 2.40:1 aspect ratio, and boasts extremely vivid colors and some exceptionally sharp detail overall. It’s so good, you can see every flaw in those fat suits. Sound-wise, Big Mommas: Like Father, Like Son carries a 5.1 DTS-HD Master Audio soundtrack that delivers quite well for what little it really has to offer (it’s a comedy, not an action flick, so don’t expect a stereo masterpiece). Also on-hand are 5.1 Dolby Digital soundtracks in French and Spanish, with an English DVS 5.1 mix also thrown in (I wonder if blind people will find this movie as bad if they can’t actually see it). Optional subtitles are available in English (SDH), and Spanish.
Special features? You’re soaking in them! First off, there’s an audio commentary for the theatrical version of the film with director John Whitesell; producer David T. Friendly; and actors Brandon T. Jackson, Jessica Lucas, and Portia Doubleday. Two featurettes — “Song And Dance: Momma Style” and “Bigger Busts Countdown” — take you a little bit closer to Hell, while two unwanted music videos from the movie’s dreadful soundtrack — “Baby You Know” and the extra-special extended version of the extra-special (in the short-bus sense) “Lyrical Miracle” — drop you off there for good. The proverbial gag reel that’s thrown into the mixture here is pretty lifeless, as are the deleted scenes.
In conclusion, well, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Big Mommas: Like Father, Like Son is a completely meaningless flick.
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