Proof that perhaps the allure of internet celebrity has peaked.
Image Courtesy of IMPawards.com
Director: Bob Gosse
Notable Cast: Matt Czuchry, Jesse Bradford, Geoff Stults, Keri Lynn Pratt, Marika Dominczyk
When history reflects upon the dawn of the 21st century, the phenomena of celebrity will perhaps be one of its more intriguing chapters. The art of becoming famous has gone from being either a great person, or doing something great, to becoming famous for “being famous.” The art of becoming famous for starring in a television show with any number of people trying to grab 15 minutes worth of fame is seemingly a whole chapter of history and psychology in and of itself. The last one, from which I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell comes from, is the art of internet celebrity.
From the “Star Wars Kid” who took out a small studio trying to imitate Ray Park’s light saber skills in the first Star Wars prequel, the “Afro Ninja” blowing a back flip or the gentleman who put together his own music video to the techno song “Numa Numa” the art of internet celebrity is even more fleeting then being a mediocre-looking slut or starring in a VH1 television show. Now comes perhaps the highest point that being an internet celebrity will take you: a vanity film devoted to someone who has yet to accomplish anything more meaningful then being a second-rate lothario and first-rate curmudgeon.
Tucker Max (Matt Czuchry) is the sort of friend who barely clings to that category. A drunken womanizer with a knack for the art of the insult, he cons his friends Drew (Jesse Bradford) and Dan (Geoff Stults) into driving 250 miles away to a gentleman’s club for Dan’s bachelor party. After lying about their intentions to Dan’s fiancée (Keri Lynn Pratt), their night turns into one that stresses the limits of their friendships to an amazing degree.
Based off a novel of the same name by Tucker Max, who also makes a cameo in the film, the film is a raunchy comedy that brings the former but forgets the latter. The film is desperately trying to find a laugh but only comes through during the most desperate moments, resulting to the lowbrow comedy of bodily functions to bring any sort of comic presence to the occasion. The script, adapted by Max (who also serves as a producer on the film), has signs of life and a lot of potential but can best be described as incomplete. There is plenty of potential to be found, as the film’s road trip aspects and general debauchery leave plenty of room for comedic moments, but ultimately the comedy is handled by someone who has a knack for words in long form but can’t translate it to another medium.
The script’s problems, outside of the lack of any truly funny moments, come in how it handles its main characters. Stereotypes wrapped in one-note descriptions, there’s nothing unique or original about the characters presented and nothing provided to make us care about them. Tucker’s whole story arc involves him growing up, somewhat, but the character never changes to any degree. The world that this character is in allows him to be a borderline sociopath and get rewarded along the way from the same people he heaps abuse upon. Inexplicably women love this guy and there’s no reason to it; this isn’t a case of the “bad boy” archetype that plays itself out in pop culture and in real life. The character is repugnant in dozens of ways and yet seemingly with a pithy line is able to overcome it all. There is something to be said about a writer crafting the character he sees as himself in the best possible light, but it gets a bit ridiculous when a character without any sort of redeeming characteristics gets redeemed and rewarded without putting in any of the work a better film would have.
It’s the ultimate in vanity projects, especially disappointing because the source material has plenty of good material to mine from. If they do serve beer in hell, it’ll be during the month-long marathon of this film.
