Plot
Jay Baruchel (of How to Train Your Dragon fame) is flying into L.A. to meet up with his old buddy Seth Rogan where they drink a lot of drink, do a lot of drugs, and play a lot of games. Afterwards however, at a party at James Franco’s house, the apocalypse is unleashed. Fiery pits, shrapnel and beasts from the netherworld lay waste to the party’s extravagant guest list, leaving just Jay, Seth, James, Jonah Hill and Craig Robinson holed up and fighting for survival.
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| There hasn't been a more entertaining group of dishevelled men since the 7 dwarves. |
Review
Hollywood actors – particularly comedians – are no strangers to the idea of self-parody. It’s a common quirk among the bigger names of those fabled hills (note: Tom Cruise and Tropic Thunder) usually intended to demonstrate a sense of fun or grounded reality and, though a respectable activity, can be a challenging one to balance. Underplay it and the audience will have no idea what’s going on, leaving the film disjointed and nonsensical. Overplay it and the sense of smug self-satisfaction is somewhat multiplied, either in a frustratingly hipster-y admonishment of mainstream social expectations or with a similarly grating sense that deep down you believe you’re still something special.
This Is the End nails self-parody, both of the individual and of the industry at large. Eventually anyway…they’re actors after all, do you expect them to know how to usea hammer?
Nobody’s ever going to praise This Is the End’s intelligence. Or it’s subtlety, its artistic or thematic merits or it’s technical proficiency. If they did they’d be on par with the parodied selves portrayed on the screen in terms of rational competency. No. The Endis stupid. Really stupid. Stupid in the best, most entertaining way.
Despite being slightly overlong with a few dud scenes, The End quite easily ranks as the year’s best comedy. The humour is gross-out for the most part – farts, drugs, booze, sex etc. - with faux-reality banter dancing around the edges but it works brilliantly.
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| It's hard to make jokes about Emma Watson because Emma Watson. Instead, let's admire how she pulls off the 'apocalyptic' look. |
The cast are (mostly) superb and seem to have a genuinely fun time. It’s during their chatty times that the film is by far at its strongest, zipping with enthusiastic energy from scene to scene, set-piece to set-piece. Surprisingly, The End also manages itself well during more action-heavy scenes; despite the dodgy CGI, they can be legitimately tense and give show-stealer Craig Robinson a chance to shine.
While certain characters (if that’s the right word for The End) don’t work – Danny McBride is unlikeable and irritating (very much like real-life then) and is responsible for pretty much every weak scene in the film; Jay Baruchel is overly whiny and grating, certainly not main-character material – the comedy ensemble cast is ultimately one of the strongest in recent years.
A film like this as good as lives or dies on the strength of its cameos. Thankfully then, this is another field in which The End excels. There are more cameos than can be counted – the majority of which are killed off in the film’s strongest, hugely entertaining, opening act – and they are utilised superbly. From the whore-mongering Michael Cera, to Rihanna’s bewildering demise, to the greatest gimp unveiling this side of Pulp Fiction.
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| *Insert 'massive dump' joke here* |
One thing that may not be expected with The End, both in terms of its presence and the sheer commitment to the ideal, is the religious element. Hollywood has no shortage of ideas when it comes to ending life as we know it and The End’s flavour of choice is Christian rapture. Yes, The End, for all of its lewd humour and cock jokes, is an illustration of God Almighty’s final and greatest wrath.
Thankfully – and impressively – the aesthetic doesn’t skew the film in a detrimental way and in fact works in the development of ridiculous stupidity; the sheer ineptitude of the actors - who are so glossy and capable in their ‘real’ films - as they face powers way beyond their comprehension (and pretty much anything else; paper-cuts are an absolute bitch) is comedic genius and a cathartic joy to behold, epitomised by the iconic red-riding-hood scream of the 6 foot+ Craig Robinson.
Ultimately, The End was almost certainly cooked up at a party the likes of which it depicts – born of the amalgamated, pot-addled ideas of a bunch of friends with too many ‘substances’ and not enough time under the maxim of ‘dude, what would you do if the world ended, like, right now?’ – and it shows. It’s utterly, gloriously, masterly moronic, typifying the college gross-out humour so popular since the 90s. Either you’ll know if that’s for you or if it’s not and either way, it’s worth a gander just to see a bunch of mates blatantly having a fantastic time.
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| Here's Rihanna struggling to play Rihanna, so it's just like real life. |
Verdict
This Is the End will not be to everyone’s tastes but if hearty harmless laughs are what you’re after, you can’t do any better right now.
4/5
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