Review: Mother’s Day

A collection of stories concerning mothers and children. There’s divorcee mum Jennifer Aniston, upset that her ex (Timothy Olyphant) has moved on to a younger sort (Shay Mitchell) and they want the kids for mother’s day. Julia Roberts plays a frozen Home Shopping Network host who claims to have never had a child, but recent mum Britt Robertson says she’s Roberts’ daughter. Robertson, by the way is the main squeeze of utterly, utterly Hugh Grant-ish Jack Whitehall, a wannabe stand-up comedian. She won’t marry him until she settles her own parental issues. Even though she’s totally just had a baby herself. Apparently that’s fine. Sisters Kate Hudson and Sarah Chalke get a surprise visit from hick parents (mum played by Margo Martindale), who are none too pleased to find out that their kids have been lying to them. Then there’s Jason Sudeikis as a widowed father, whose grief sees him unable to understand his kids’ need to celebrate mother’s day. Jon Lovitz plays the comedy club emcee, Hector Elizondo plays ‘Guy who always appears in Garry Marshall films’, and Penny Marshall provides opening narration.

 

Although it’s not quite as insultingly bad as the previous two Garry Marshall holiday theme cash-ins (“New Year’s Eve” and “Valentine’s Day”), this 2016 is exceedingly dull, and isn’t the best ending to the man’s career. The film doesn’t have characters, it has ‘labels’. There’s the ‘career woman who gave up being a mum’ (Julia Roberts), there’s the ‘new mum’ (Britt Robertson), there’s the ‘Mum who has to deal with her daughter happening to be gay’ (Margo Martindale), there’s the widowed father (Jason Sudeikis), there’s the ‘Rachel from “Friends” as a divorced mum’ (Jennifer Aniston), etc. It’s lazy cash-grab stuff for the undemanding masses who just want some background noise while they sit in a theatre playing with their phones obsessively. I wasn’t fucking having it, especially when Marshall adds extra helpings of his usual wacky (i.e. stupid) humour. I should also point out that this empty lame sitcom of a film actually has three credited writers: Tom Hines (who appears in the film briefly), Anya Kochoff (“Monster-in-Law”), and Matthew Walker (who appears in the film briefly). Three writers (five if you include the two additional story writers, one being the director himself) and nothing to show for it.

 

Everything here is phony. Jennifer Aniston continues to inject her characters with Rachel from “Friends” mannerisms to the point of total aggravation. She’s also playing a thoroughly horrible character. Shay Mitchell’s young stepmum character seems a thoroughly lovely lady, and Aniston treats her like shit even by the end. Why? Jealousy, that’s why. I mean, fuck off. You’re a middle-aged woman who can’t deal with the fact that your marriage is over, and you’re acting like a bratty teenager. No sympathy from me, I’m afraid, especially when in the very next scene she’s openly and awkwardly flirting with Jason Sudeikis like a silly teenager. Give me a break! Julia Roberts plays a phony TV persona in what is ironically (and not intentionally) a completely phony performance, all of Marshall’s comic touches are phony. As for Sudeikis, there’s something inherently smarmy about him that makes his “Mr. Mom” act not particularly convincing. Also unconvincing are his gaggle of gym attendee mums, one of several annoyingly quirky Marshall comic touches that don’t work. Britt Robertson gets to not only play a new mum, but someone who was adopted herself. She’s equally annoying at both.

 

Sarah Chalke’s way of playing a gay person, meanwhile is to darken her hair a bit and wear shorts and a t-shirt. I found that distracting to be honest. It seemed forced and clichéd. However, the entire arc of her character and her sister (played by Kate Hudson) was a total disaster. It’s idiotic and outdated. How outdated? It’s 2016 and her and Hudson’s dad calls the latter’s Indian husband a ‘towelhead’, whilst he and their mother (Margo Martindale yet again playing an ignorant trailer trash stereotype) apparently watch “Jerry Springer”. In 2016. I wouldn’t normally be sympathetic to the kind of character Martindale plays, but it’s a horribly written caricature, her kids are fucking liars, and I don’t have an ounce of sympathy for any of them. It’s just horribly, horribly written, outdated, and not remotely funny. Then again this film proves time and time again that it doesn’t have a clue what funny is. Just look at the scene where supposedly racist Martindale ends up Skype-ing (whatever that is) with the Indian guy’s mother, and they both drink a beer. Fuck. Off. It’s not funny, and none of these movies from Marshall seem to take place on the Planet Earth. For starters, if this took place on the Planet Earth, Hudson’s Indian husband wouldn’t be made out to be the bad guy here (why is that again?), Martindale wouldn’t be chugging a beer over Skype with an Indian lady, and most importantly Hudson wouldn’t have lied to her parents in the first place. Instead we get an oh-so funny comedically out of control camper van sequence. Tee hee. Har Har. Fuck off. Meanwhile, at one point Aniston has a heart-to-heart with a clown. A clown. And why is she referring to him as ‘clown’? Is she so damn cheap that she hired the world’s most generic clown to the point where he just calls himself ‘clown’?

 

In a mere flashback cameo, Jennifer Garner is the one real, sincere and wonderful element on show here. She nearly avoids being ‘Dead soldier mum’ through sheer talent and presence alone to almost create an actual, living and breathing character. Almost, she’s not a miracle worker. The nadir of the film oddly enough isn’t the runaway vagina on wheels, it’s Sudeikis in pink pants performing the ‘Humpty Dance’ on a karaoke machine to a bunch of kids in 2016 who have magically heard of the early 90s one hit wonder. Yeah, let that one sink in.

 

Not as bad as its two predecessors, but twice as boring to the point of being much of a muchness. Clichéd and substituting labels and ‘types’ for characters, even the seriously undemanding likely won’t care for this. This is a tedious all-star non-effort from a plethora of people who should’ve known better aimed at people who deserve better. Your mum definitely deserves better, especially if she’s not white...yeah, there’s no non-white mums in this film outside of the Indian mother.  

 

Rating: D+