From courting in “Meet the Parents (2000) and marrying in “Meet the Fockers” (2004), to childrearing in “Little Fockers,” there are more lax yuks about retired CIA agent Jack Byrnes (Robert De Niro) humiliating son-in-law and male nurse Greg Focker (Ben Stiller), now the father of the title twins. The prior installment focused on Jack’s issues of distrust and domination. This one is about Greg’s standing as a wife-satisfier, breadwinner and childraiser. In the second film, Greg embarrassed himself at his engagement party by telling family secrets under the influence of truth serum. Now he mocks Jack at a urologist confab and it gets back to the in-laws via YouTube. Instead of Jack injecting Greg in a bathroom, this time Greg injects Jack in a bathroom; the sexy housekeeper who deflowered teenaged Greg is updated with a sexy pharm flack for “boner medicine” (Jessica Alba). Flamenco, not capoeira, is the hobby of Greg’s dad (Dustin Hoffman). At the dinner table, projectile vomit replaces arterial sprays. Snickering wordplay with Fockers’ name remains at the level of a sophomore locker room. “Manopause” replaces “manary” glands. And a cousin of that toddler whose first word was “asshole,” is old enough to ask the darndest thing: “Can a girl poop from her vagina?” Directing a screenplay by Larry Stuckey and John Hamburg, Paul Weitz (“American Dreamz,” “American Pie”) manages to kill most punchlines and pratfalls with lousy timing and framing. With Teri Polo, Owen Wilson, Blythe Danner, Barbra Streisand, Laura Dern, Harvey Keitel and Deepak Chopra as himself. 98m. (Bill Stamets)
Ray Pride is Newcity’s Senior Editor and Film Critic. He is a contributing editor of Filmmaker magazine.
Ray’s history of Chicago Ghost Signs is planned for publication next year. Previews of the project are on Twitter and on Instagram. More photography on Instagram.
Heart: A Review of Soul The real world is soulful, too, in Pixar's bountiful life of the mind.
Seeing The Elephant: A Review Of Babylon The boisterous, brawling yet melancholy "Babylon," is a variation on film history, but more drawing for drama. It's gaudy and mean, celebratory and sorrowful.
Spawn Sacrifice: A Review Of The Creator "The Creator" is richly detailed, punchy, pulpy, punkish entertainment that still has highly serious subjects in mind, without growing didactic and with substantial heart.
A Drag Getting Old: A Review Of Indiana Jones 5 In the protracted opening couple of reels, a very young, computer-crafted Harrison Ford plays a younger cultural marauder who first encounters the dull MacGuffin of the title.
Fine Line: A Review Of Shortcomings It's a season for the comeuppance of a curmudgeon in Randall Park's smart, biting "Shortcomings," adapted by Adrian Tomine from his graphic novel of the same name.
Heart of Darkness: A Review of The Batman The three-hour film noir unfolds briskly, an intensive study in the pervasive interplay of power, money and corruption in what seems like perpetual rainy night.
From courting in “Meet the Parents (2000) and marrying in “Meet the Fockers” (2004), to childrearing in “Little Fockers,” there are more lax yuks about retired CIA agent Jack Byrnes (Robert De Niro) humiliating son-in-law and male nurse Greg Focker (Ben Stiller), now the father of the title twins. The prior installment focused on Jack’s issues of distrust and domination. This one is about Greg’s standing as a wife-satisfier, breadwinner and childraiser. In the second film, Greg embarrassed himself at his engagement party by telling family secrets under the influence of truth serum. Now he mocks Jack at a urologist confab and it gets back to the in-laws via YouTube. Instead of Jack injecting Greg in a bathroom, this time Greg injects Jack in a bathroom; the sexy housekeeper who deflowered teenaged Greg is updated with a sexy pharm flack for “boner medicine” (Jessica Alba). Flamenco, not capoeira, is the hobby of Greg’s dad (Dustin Hoffman). At the dinner table, projectile vomit replaces arterial sprays. Snickering wordplay with Fockers’ name remains at the level of a sophomore locker room. “Manopause” replaces “manary” glands. And a cousin of that toddler whose first word was “asshole,” is old enough to ask the darndest thing: “Can a girl poop from her vagina?” Directing a screenplay by Larry Stuckey and John Hamburg, Paul Weitz (“American Dreamz,” “American Pie”) manages to kill most punchlines and pratfalls with lousy timing and framing. With Teri Polo, Owen Wilson, Blythe Danner, Barbra Streisand, Laura Dern, Harvey Keitel and Deepak Chopra as himself. 98m. (Bill Stamets)
