Funny, I hadn't realised that we had left the driveway. Ice Cube demeans himself completely (and at his own hands) as a confirmed bachelor who falls in love with a single mother of two. Those two, unbeknownst to him, are a precocious girl and a neurotic boy who hate all of their mother's suitors and yearn to make his life miserable.
Naturally, their mother has to go to New York and requires Ice to bring the kids at a later date, facilitating a cross-country sprint in which the kids torment our hero until both parties realise they're not so bad after all. I can't decide if this is Rain Man with asthma instead of autism or Planes, Trains and Automobiles with preteens instead of John Candy, but here's a compromise: it's terrible.
You can amuse yourself during screenings by deciding which part of the movie is worse: the tired slapstick portion involving the defilement of Ice's beloved SUV (and the Chinese garage owner who's beguiled by shiny things) or the sentimental about-face midway into the picture in which we're supposed to suddenly feel for the thoroughly hateful characters with whom we've been trapped for so long.
I can assure you won't be amused by much else not the bland cheap-comedy lighting, the berserk and haphazard editing, the atrocious performances by most of the supporting cast and certainly not the painful interjections of, yes, Ice's dashboard Satchel Paige bobble-head.
I suppose trainspotters will want to know about the wasting of second-tier SNL refugee Jay Mohr, but I can't imagine another sentient life form that could get much out of this crass insult to paying audiences everywhere. Flee in terror. (Columbia Sony)
Naturally, their mother has to go to New York and requires Ice to bring the kids at a later date, facilitating a cross-country sprint in which the kids torment our hero until both parties realise they're not so bad after all. I can't decide if this is Rain Man with asthma instead of autism or Planes, Trains and Automobiles with preteens instead of John Candy, but here's a compromise: it's terrible.
You can amuse yourself during screenings by deciding which part of the movie is worse: the tired slapstick portion involving the defilement of Ice's beloved SUV (and the Chinese garage owner who's beguiled by shiny things) or the sentimental about-face midway into the picture in which we're supposed to suddenly feel for the thoroughly hateful characters with whom we've been trapped for so long.
I can assure you won't be amused by much else not the bland cheap-comedy lighting, the berserk and haphazard editing, the atrocious performances by most of the supporting cast and certainly not the painful interjections of, yes, Ice's dashboard Satchel Paige bobble-head.
I suppose trainspotters will want to know about the wasting of second-tier SNL refugee Jay Mohr, but I can't imagine another sentient life form that could get much out of this crass insult to paying audiences everywhere. Flee in terror. (Columbia Sony)