Identity Thief – 2 out of 5
Ha, imagine if someone tried to steal my identity…they’d return it once they realize my checking account contains only $14.23 and credit card companies actively avoid me like I’m sick with the latest population destroying disease. So, I think my identity is okay. Instead of worrying if someone wants my life, and all the glories it entails like stealing toilet paper from the local Arby’s and consisting off a diet of runoff water and whatever condiment packets I can successfully get away with without mall security tackling me to the ground and entering blackout rage as he rails the side of my head with his flashlight, I’m just going to watch the comedy Identity Thief.
*Flash-cut an hour and a half later*
Damn…I made the wrong choice.
|Hey, that's the same face I made while watching this!|
|Hilarity or tragic abuse in 5...4...3...2..|
|Robert Patrick's goatee is probably the greatest aspect about this film.|
|Even the stars are demanding that the PPV charge of|
Identity Thief be taken off their bill.
|Jon Favreau was in this one because, clearly, he was bored and needed something|
Rex Reed being a tool aside, he was right about one thing; the movie isn’t funny. However, it’s no fault of McCarthy’s or her weight (in fact, there are actually very few jokes about McCarthy’s weight in the film). McCarthy and Bateman are both working diligently to try and make this film funny and taking what little the script gives them and attempts to make it at least a knock-off, bargain basement gold but, the sad reality is, the movie just didn’t have much output for the two already establish laugh-makers to do anything with. Occasionally the movie offers up some chuckle moments that includes fist fights between Bateman and McCartney that genuinely made me laugh my ass off but the rest of the film is filled with really bad filler—filler, however, that is still 100 times funnier than anything in an Adam Sandler film or any role belonging to Nick Swardson.
|This picture is funnier than the entire Bucky Larson movie.|
|That's what you get when you drive a Fiat...or, at least,|
I think. I honestly know nothing about cars.
|Pictured: Emotions toiling in the emotion organ.|
|You know it's a party when a heavy cowboy shows|
up in your hotel room.