Vegas Baby, Vegas: The Hangover Reviewed

There has been such a boon of comedy in the last decade that compiling a list of the "funniest" becomes a futile enterprise. Where do you draw the line? Is Old School that much better than Wedding Crashers? Does The 40-Year-Old Virgin top Superbad? Where does something like Tropic Thunder fit in on the list in comparison to Anchorman? What about Knocked Up?

Based on this abundance of laughers, where to rank The Hangover isn't exactly clear. However, wherever it lands--we're currently apt to place it just below Superbad and Old School on our list of favorites--one thing is unequivocally clear: If another movie winds up being be funnier in 2009 than The Hangover, this will go down as one of the great years for comedy in the last twenty.


You've obviously seen the ubiquitous trailer, but in case you don't know the story: Four guys to go Las Vegas for a bachelor party. When they wake up the following morning, the groom is missing, a random baby is crying in the closet, there's a tiger in the bathroom, and the hotel is gloriously trashed. Oh, and they don't remember a thing. The rest of the movie is spent with the three remaining heroes trying to piece together their antics of the prior night while hoping to find the groom before the wedding... which just so happens to be the following day. Think of this as Memento with baby masturbation jokes.

The three guys are played by Bradley Cooper (as Phil, the school teacher/faux-Lothario), Ed Helms (as Stu, the dentist/nerd) and Zack Galifianakis (as Alan, the groom's would-be brother-in-law/probable pedophile). Rarely do I remember ever seeing a movie give Hollywood three legitimate star making performances at one time, but The Hangover manages to do it with ease. These performances are all perfect: Mr. Cooper, with his A-list good looks and willingness to make himself look a like a preening dickhead, seems poised for superstardom--my man crush on him knows no bounds; Mr. Helms builds on the button-downed aggression he has perfected on The Office to give the funniest performance in the film--there is simply no reason why he can't become the next Steve Carell; and Mr. Galifianakis is so absurd, so balls-out ridiculous at all times, that he could probably wind up with a very lucrative career knocking it out of the park in similar roles for the rest of his life; for once, I can't wait to see the deleted scenes on the DVD release, since I imagine there is plenty more of Mr. Galifianakis on the cutting room floor.

The joy of The Hangover lies in its unrepentant forward momentum. From minute one through the closing credits (which are so ribald, it's shocking their prescence allowed the film to keep its R-rating), the film simply doesn't stop. It's cut together like the final thirty minutes of Goodfellas: The pace is relentless and every mundane event seems to hold the weight of something much more vital. The guys treat eating breakfast with the same confused bemusement that they do when they find out they stole a cop car. And the reason all this works so well has a lot to do with Todd Phillips.

Thanks to Judd Apatow, the once-sought director has been pushed to the side of relevancy in recent years. His comedies like Old School, Road Trip and Starsky and Hutch feel like relics from a by-gone era when all people cared about was laughing. And, honestly, with the exception of Old School, those films don't hold up all that well. Mr. Apatow one-upped Mr. Phillips by adding large helpings of heart and pathos to the machine, and thus made his movies more than just junk food. Mr. Apatow's films are complete thoughts; up until now, Mr. Phillips' have been strings of funny ideas draped around lazy plots.

Here though, the director takes his game to another level, eschewing conventional romantic entanglements for the pursuit of comedy. As great as Old School is, even the most ardent defender of that film would have to concede that the boring third act subplot of relationship angst between Luke Wilson and Ellen Pompeo almost single-handedly sucks the life out of the film.

In The Hangover, though, it's as if Mr. Phillips actively ignores all that. This is a movie about three men doing ridiculous things, and, while there are girls present (Heather Graham makes a brief appearance, long enough to show her boobs), they are literally inconsequential to the story. You can almost hear Mr. Phillips saying, "Why bother with a female lead when I can have Ed Helms blow his top for the 23rd time?" Kudos for everyone involved for allowing this to happen and for trusting the audience to take the ride without softening the story one iota. Besides, I've always found it insulting to assume that girls are only interested in these comedies if there is a romantic angle to be manipulated. Male or female, funny is funny.

And The Hangover is funny. Sure to be as beloved and remembered as Old School and Superbad, it's the type of film that makes you feel so good when it's finished that you can't wait to see it again. The vibe reminded me of Dazed and Confused, which always makes me want to go to a big kegger and listen to Lynyrd Skynyrd. Basically, at the end of The Hangover, I wanted to go to Vegas and party.

Hopefully, with a tiger.

And, if I'm lucky, Mike Tyson.