Movies

Hall Pass is garbage waiting for the dump truck. The latest assault on public decency from the pathetic oeuvre of the Farrelly Brothers is the same old swill, wrapped in odor-resistant disposable trash bags. What, you expected more? You thought they swallowed elegance pills? Any Farrelly Brothers flick (the word “film” does not apply) that doesn’t pander to the lowest depths of taste and intelligence would have the cinematic effect of convulsive electro-shock treatments in an insane asylum. Since no thought has been wasted on plot, narrative coherence, character development, direction, acting, technical artistry or anything that might pass for cleverness, I don’t see a point in discussing any aspect of this stinker in depth.

p>This often ridiculous but occasionally entertaining farce unites Jennifer Aniston and Adam Sandler on the big screen for the first time. Turns out, the stars have natural chemistry, but it’s not quite enough to elevate this tale—about a plastic surgeon who, caught in a lie, invents a fake marriage and casts his assistant as his wife—to anything more than a mediocre date movie.

It could be argued that everyone feels alien in high school. But none more so than John Smith, the protagonist of I Am Number Four, a slight but surprisingly entertaining movie based on the young adult novel of the same name by Jobie Hughes and James Frey, Oprah’s favorite memoir-exaggerating whipping boy. See, John actually is an alien (albeit one who could double for a California surfer boy) who hails from the fictional planet Lorien. Not only that, but he and the few remaining Loriens who’ve sought refuge on Earth are being hunted down and killed by a fearsome tribe of tall, tattooed predators, the Mogadorians, who invaded Lorien and extinguished its populace some years before. John is one of nine teens who were saved in order to protect their special powers, but as it turns out, Earth maybe isn’t the best hiding place. The Mogadorians have already killed off the first three. And John, well ... you know the title.

In 1998, news of an Adam Sandler-Jennifer Aniston romantic comedy might have had moviegoers choking on their Zimas with lusty anticipation. Now, it’s hard not to greet the news with a dubious eye roll. Both stars, while still arguably A-list, have weathered their share of critical flops (Aniston in particular seems unable to attach herself to a movie that doesn’t rate somewhere between embarrassing and meh), and each glossy rom-com churned out by a major studio these days seems airier and more generic than the last. Maybe my lowered expectations are to blame, but I’m happy to report that Just Go With It is not nearly as terrible as it could be given the circumstances. It is thoroughly mediocre, and even occasionally entertaining.