Stephanie prevails upon her parents, Ned and Barb, to travel with her younger brother from Michigan to California, to spend Christmas at her (newly disclosed to her parents) boyfriend Laird's place. Laird turns out to be unable to utter a sentence without the word "f*ck" or one of its derivatives appearing in it at least once, usually more often. He also wears fewer clothes than conservative Ned is comfortable with. It also turns out that he is very wealthy, and that there are a number of other important issues which Stephanie has been less than frank about.
Comedies based on generation gaps or, more usually, attitude gaps are not rarities, so the chasm between rather prim and conservative Ned, and the extravagantly unexpurgated Laird is familiar territory, ripe to be mined for comedy. It is surprising, then, that this film isn't funnier than it is.
The characters might have been drawn more broadly, but Cranston reins Ned back to the extent that he is a person rather than a caricature and, surprisingly, so does Franco, albeit less so. And so we get two real people both struggling with their own conflicting mindsets in the best interests of Stephanie who isn't always co-operating with them. Among the large brushstrokes of Laird's crassness and ridiculous works of art, and Ned's kneejerk horror, we have a genuine drama of real people trying to make real accommodations and, while it may be dramatically credible, it's not particularly funny.
Which is why we have the daftly hilarious Gustav (Keegan Michael-Key) as Laird's preposterous estate manager, and a short but comical routine with a rather baked Barb coming on to a husband whose mind is elsewhere. Less amusing are the hacking, paperless toilet, and moose p!ss sequences.
As a comedy this came across rather unsuccessfully to me, although I quite liked it because I quite liked the characters in it, even Laird.
Comedies based on generation gaps or, more usually, attitude gaps are not rarities, so the chasm between rather prim and conservative Ned, and the extravagantly unexpurgated Laird is familiar territory, ripe to be mined for comedy. It is surprising, then, that this film isn't funnier than it is.
The characters might have been drawn more broadly, but Cranston reins Ned back to the extent that he is a person rather than a caricature and, surprisingly, so does Franco, albeit less so. And so we get two real people both struggling with their own conflicting mindsets in the best interests of Stephanie who isn't always co-operating with them. Among the large brushstrokes of Laird's crassness and ridiculous works of art, and Ned's kneejerk horror, we have a genuine drama of real people trying to make real accommodations and, while it may be dramatically credible, it's not particularly funny.
Which is why we have the daftly hilarious Gustav (Keegan Michael-Key) as Laird's preposterous estate manager, and a short but comical routine with a rather baked Barb coming on to a husband whose mind is elsewhere. Less amusing are the hacking, paperless toilet, and moose p!ss sequences.
As a comedy this came across rather unsuccessfully to me, although I quite liked it because I quite liked the characters in it, even Laird.