Category: Comedy

Good Fortune opens with an angel played by Keanu Reeves, because of course it does. He floats in like a well-moisturized guru and decides the best way to help a struggling gig worker is to pull the classic “life switch” move. This is the kind of plan you’d expect from a celestial being who just discovered reality TV and got too emotionally invested in Undercover Boss.

Aziz Ansari plays Arj, a man who delivers things for a living and gets paid in vague apologies and low battery warnings. He’s exhausted, underpaid, and one algorithm away from a full breakdown. Meanwhile, Seth Rogen plays Jeff, a tech billionaire with the emotional maturity of a scented candle. His biggest problem is his kombucha fridge being too full.

Then Keanu shows up as Gabriel, a divine force who talks like every motivational quote that’s ever been cross-stitched onto a throw pillow. He decides to swap their lives, not through any kind of divine order, but because he has the spiritual decision-making skills of a confused yoga instructor.

Now Arj is waking up in a silk robe wondering what a Peloton is, and Jeff is suddenly broke, sweaty, and very angry at public transit. Gabriel floats around trying to keep things together while looking like he’s about to start a band called Eternal Stillness. Every time he speaks, it sounds like he’s either solving the universe or reading aloud from his own cologne ad.

Keke Palmer plays someone with common sense. Sandra Oh plays the upper-management angel who is clearly one spreadsheet away from firing Gabriel on the spot. At one point there is probably a dramatic monologue about finding your purpose while standing in front of a very expensive toaster.

It’s a comedy with heart, or at least a heart-shaped reminder that billionaires are just weird guys with too much furniture. Some of the jokes land. Some wander off and become think pieces. But it’s worth it to watch Keanu stare into the middle distance and say things like, “Maybe the life you want isn’t the life you need,” while soft music swells in the background.

4 out of 5 spiritual HR violations

Because even heaven has a performance review.

The Naked Gun (the reboot, not the 1988 classic that had a higher body count of banana peels than bullets)

So there’s a new Naked Gun movie, which I have not seen but feel fully qualified to review because I once watched Airplane! while under the influence of NyQuil and a Costco-sized box of Cheez-Its.

This reboot stars Liam Neeson, who is mostly famous for playing characters who threaten to do horrible things to people over the phone. But now he’s playing Frank Drebin Jr., a police detective who solves crimes primarily by tripping over things and accidentally blowing up half the city. This is a big career shift for Neeson, who usually responds to criminals with intense lines like “I will find you… and I will kill you,” and now has to say things like “I will find you… but first I need to get this toilet plunger off my head.”

The film is directed by Akiva Schaffer, a member of The Lonely Island, which is a comedy group known for songs like “I’m on a Boat,” which is what I assume Liam Neeson screamed during filming when he slipped on a rubber ducky and flew through a window into the harbor.

I read online that Seth MacFarlane produced this, so you already know it’s going to contain jokes that ride the line between “hilarious” and “I’m going to be sued.” Also, Pamela Anderson is in it, playing some sort of romantic interest, because this film lives in an alternate reality where that pairing makes sense and defies all known laws of physics, chemistry, and age-appropriate flirting.

The plot – and I use that word in the loosest possible way – involves Drebin Jr. trying to stop something that’s probably a crime, although most of the trailer just shows him getting hit in the groin by a series of increasingly improbable objects, including a falling air conditioner, a ceiling fan, and, I think, a small goat.

There’s also a scene where Liam Neeson wears a Catholic schoolgirl outfit, which I’m sure was in his original “List of Things I Never Thought I’d Do After Turning 70.” At this point I have to assume Neeson accepted this role either because (a) he lost a bet, (b) his agent is a chaos goblin, or (c) he thought this was another Taken sequel and no one corrected him.

Meanwhile, David Zucker, the original director, has gone on record as saying he hates this reboot and was not asked to be involved. That’s Hollywood-speak for “I am sending them a flaming paper bag of angry nostalgia.”

There are cameos. There are fart jokes. There’s a scene involving a twerking suspect and a taser. There’s probably a running gag about Neeson mistaking his gun for a banana. And of course, there’s a joke involving a courtroom, a sneeze, and at least three counts of accidental public nudity.

And folks: I did not make any of that up. Except the banana. But I’m 90% sure it’s still in the movie.

I give this movie one confused Liam Neeson, three head injuries, and a C+ in law enforcement competency.

Bride Hard is what happens when someone types “What if Die Hard, but bridesmaid?” into ChatGPT at 2 a.m. after a bachelorette party and then greenlights the first draft. It stars Rebel Wilson as Sam, a covert government agent who is trying to take a break from all the espionage and assassination to attend a wedding—because nothing says “relaxing getaway” like organizing flower arrangements while also body-slamming terrorists.

According to the internet (which, as always, is a completely reliable source unless you’re asking about vaccines or how many spiders you swallow in your sleep), the plot involves Sam attending her best friend’s destination wedding on a private island. Then—surprise!—a group of international bad guys crash the party, probably because they weren’t invited and RSVP’d “yes” out of spite. This forces Sam to kick off her heels, unclip the garter belt, and unleash some bridesmaid-themed vengeance using presumably whatever weapons were available in the bridal suite. Curling iron? Deadly. Hair spray? Flammable. Bouquet? Ninja star.

The director is Simon West, who previously brought us Con Air, which featured Nicolas Cage with a southern accent so strong it set off car alarms. So expectations were somewhere between “unhinged genius” and “straight-to-Redbox sequel no one asked for.” And early reviews seem to lean toward the latter. Critics described it as “cringe comedy with abs,” “a chaotic mess in formalwear,” and “a movie that exists.”

Rebel Wilson, to her credit, reportedly got injured while filming and kept going, which makes her officially tougher than me, because I once took two Advil and canceled a Zoom call. She said she wanted to do her own stunts, and she did—proving that nothing says “method acting” like getting socked in the face in a chiffon dress.

There’s also a subplot, allegedly, about the power of female friendship. Because even if your bridesmaids forget the snacks, they will absolutely help you kill a man with a veil. The movie tries to blend empowerment with explosions, which is always tricky unless your name is Mad Max: Fury Road. This is more like Mad Max: Matron of Honor—if Max had trouble with Pinterest boards.

Word on the street is that Da’Vine Joy Randolph fires a cannon in this movie, which honestly should be its own genre: Oscar Winners Operating Artillery in Rom-Coms. If Judi Dench starts swinging a katana at a baby shower in 2026, we’ll know where this trend started.

I haven’t seen Bride Hard, but I can tell you this: someone probably says “This wedding is about to blow” and then something explodes. I also feel confident that at least one character yells “Not on my big day!” while roundhouse-kicking a man into a punch fountain.

RATING: 2.5 out of 5 exploding centerpieces.

One point for Rebel’s commitment. Half a point for the cannon. One full point for the mental image of a bouquet being thrown with enough force to decapitate a mercenary.

Secrets, Sequins, and the Most Casual Federal Crimes You’ll Ever See at Brunch

Another Simple Favor is the sequel nobody saw coming and yet somehow completely expected. Once again, Anna Kendrick and Blake Lively return to play America’s most emotionally unstable PTA friendship — where every coffee date turns into a federal investigation.

I haven’t seen it. But I’ve watched the trailer, read the headlines, and skimmed enough online think pieces titled “Is Suburban Murder Chic Now?” to confidently pretend I have.

The plot picks up after the first movie’s mildly unhinged blend of murder, fraud, and really good outfits. Now they’re off to Italy, because if you’re going to make terrible life choices, you might as well do it somewhere with excellent wine and questionable extradition treaties. There’s a destination wedding, multiple bodies (allegedly), and at least one scene where Blake Lively delivers a thinly veiled threat while wearing designer sunglasses the size of satellite dishes.

Anna Kendrick’s character remains that rare combination of sweet, twitchy, and terrifyingly adaptable. Blake Lively’s character, meanwhile, continues to operate somewhere between fashion icon and probable FBI watchlist. And based on the vibe, someone definitely hides a weapon in a purse shaped like an exotic fruit.

Early reactions say the sequel doubles down on the twists, the cocktails, and the “did she really just do that?” moments. Expect plot twists stacked like overpriced macarons, passive-aggressive compliments delivered with a smile, and a soundtrack that makes you feel vaguely cooler than you actually are.

Another Simple Favor is not really about friendship. It’s about trust issues, buried secrets, and the fact that everyone on Pinterest probably has at least one felony they haven’t mentioned yet.

I give it 4 out of 5 designer cover-ups, and I assume at least one wedding guest doesn’t make it back through customs.

Suburban Dads, Emotional Damage, and the Most Passive-Aggressive Backyard Firepit in Cinema

Friendship is a dark comedy that explores what happens when a group of adult men decide—against their better judgment—to hang out on purpose. It stars Paul Rudd, Tim Robinson, and a supporting cast of emotionally repressed dudes in flannel, cargo shorts, and the kind of sneakers you only buy after turning 40 and saying the word “arch support” unironically.

The story follows Dan—because of course it’s Dan—who invites a few neighborhood dads over for beers, hoping to bond over grilling and casual trauma. What starts as a simple backyard hangout quickly devolves into passive-aggressive power dynamics, low-stakes betrayal, and a deep examination of why grown men think building a deck together counts as intimacy.

From the opening scene, you know exactly what kind of emotional minefield you’re in for. There’s a garage jam session that ends in tears. A surprisingly intense game of cornhole that uncovers a decade-old grudge about fantasy football. One of the men cries in a tent while the others pretend not to notice. Another shows up late and tries to act like he wasn’t just circling the block for 45 minutes trying to talk himself into showing up.

The movie somehow balances absurdity and poignancy, making you laugh out loud one minute and question your own friendships the next. Paul Rudd plays the guy who never opens up until he suddenly does in a monologue about mowing the lawn at night to avoid his feelings. Tim Robinson delivers an unhinged speech about the existential dread of patio furniture. And someone, at some point, definitely tries to hug someone else and gets politely rebuffed with a fist bump.

It’s awkward, heartfelt, funny, and just uncomfortably real enough to make you want to text your old friends “sup” at 1 a.m. without context.

I give Friendship 4.5 out of 5 backyard breakdowns, with extra credit for every character who emotionally unravels while holding a Solo cup.