Slashing The Seats

Like a drunken friend asleep on your kitchen floor, The Hangover manages to be both a messy, rude shambles and curiously endearing.

The stag-do-gone-wrong premise isn’t particularly original, but The Hangover works hard within narrow confines, dishing out big laughs thanks to ingenious set pieces and some hilarious verbal sparring throughout. Thanks to roofies being mistaken for E, the stock characters (the wimp, the instigator, the nice guy, the weirdo) have even less of a clue as to what’s going on than the audience, and as they embark on a wild hunt for The Groom (not to mention a missing tooth and the owners of both a baby and a tiger found in their hotel room). Gags come thick and fast.

The pace is furious throughout as stolen police cars, Heather Graham’s hooker-with-a-heart and a pissed off, Phil Collins-obsessed Mike Tyson all get thrown into the mix, almost threatening to sink the movie under the weight of information overload. Fortunately it all works on the ‘Airplane’ principle – if one joke doesn’t work, there’ll be three more along at any moment.

The leads work well together throughout, turning what could be a repeat of the director’s previous, insipid take on ‘School for Scoundrels’ into a loveable ensemble piece, with some brilliant dialogue that works because you genuinely like the guys. Stand out for me was the line “do you know where the best little wedding chapel is?” – “sure, it’s on the corner of Fuck Off and Get A Map”

In short, a quick-witted scramble down a well-trodden comedy path. The chemistry and verbosity manages to turn what could’ve been a shallow and misogynistic tale into a big summer hit, combining gross-out, bromantic and detective story into one sharp story.

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