Martin Lawrence once again dresses up as a lady in Big Mommas: Like Father, Like Son.
But is it actually funny?
Your synapses arent firing.
Such is my dilemma withBig Mommas: Like Father, Like Son.
Having sat through all 107 minutes of Martin Lawrences latest comedy outing, Im lost for words.
but its hard to be sure what they say exactly.
The muffled sighs of three or four dozen journalists all shuffling awkwardly.
The faint scritch scritch of fingernails on beards and stubble.
The subtle creaking of backbones.
Big Mommasis one of those films whose entire plot can be understood by simply watching its trailer.
Why would a father and son dress as women and hide out in a girls school?
Because an informant hid some potentially incriminating evidence in the library.
At no point in any ofBig Mommas 107 minutes did anyone laugh.
Its like watching a barn door opening and then crashing shut again in a strong breeze, forever.
Its not an exaggeration to say theyve fallen short of this goal.
All it’s possible for you to do is stare, stupefied, into the cinematic void.
Anyone else should approach with caution.
When you stare into the void, the void stares back into you.
Rating:
1 out of 5
