The supplement to a strike French comedy reunites stars Jean-Paul Rouve and Isabelle Nanty as a relatives of a house of yokels carrying to fake they’re polished people, this time in a United States.
Apparently, a Beverly Hillbillies formula — or a Fresh Prince of Bel-Air conceit, if we weren’t innate nonetheless in a 1960s — never gets old. In fact, many countries in a Western universe seem to have during slightest one movement on a unrefined-yokels-suddenly-come-into-money story. In France, executive Olivier Baroux done a initial film about a Tuches, a backwater house vital it adult in Monaco after winning a lottery, behind in 2011, when it sole a really important 1.5 million tickets.
Fast-forward 5 years and a family is back, in a (grammatically wonky) pretension The Tuche: The American Dream (Les Tuche 2: Le reve americain), in that a youngest of a clan, Donald, is study in California. At school, he meets a lady from a abounding family and — you guessed it — has to fake he comes from a polished background. Cue a warn family revisit and sore gags involving a pointless collection of U.S.A. clichés, trimming from a Klu Klux Klan and a Amish to a Las Vegas Elvis impersonator-slash-wedding-officiant.
Though vastly defective to a already hokey predecessor, this supplement scored a intolerable 1.5 million admissions during a initial weekend and forsaken usually 20% in a second week. No doubt, a producers during Eskwad and Pathé are already formulation a line-up of sequels and spin-offs that will make Marvel’s arriving recover report demeanour definitely empty. God assistance French cinema.
Unemployed layabout Jeff (Jean-Paul Rouve), whose instructions to his beautician contingency have been “I’ll have a Richard Simmons, additional large,” is married to Cathy (Isabelle Nanty), a Rubenesque hausfrau. Together, they spawned a comely beauty black and wannabe singer Stephanie (Sarah Stern), a sort-of-closeted wannabe rapper Wilfried (Pierre Lottin), aka Tuche Daddy, and a venerable and sedulous Donald, aka Quack-Quack (Theo Fernandez, encoring like a rest of a cast). The latter’s name/nickname combo — think Duck! — is a good barometer of a film’s clarity of humor, that is young and genuine whenever it’s not willingly moronic.
Like partial one, Quack-Quack narrates a story during a start and a finish and is mostly lost about in a 80 or so mins in between, both as a impression and a narrator. At a start of partial deux, Donald’s vital in or nearby L.A., where he’s study for a month to urge his English. When he perfunctorily befriends a prosy lady his age, Jennifer (Alice Morel Michaud), he’s introduced to her abounding parents, a Carringtons (Ken Samuels, Susan Almgren), who are so cultivated, they pronounce ideal if heavily accented French (how this is ostensible to urge Donald’s English is anyone’s guess).
Of course, Daddy Carrington has a nerdy and modest Donald introduced into his fraternity, that is busy by a battery of teenagers being neat to spin captains of industry. The film’s frustratingly deceptive about what kind of dorm, propagandize and companionship a 15-year-old (!) is indeed attending, with any remotely trustworthy sum about tangible life in a U.S. about as stirring as a John Kasich presidency.
Donald tells Jennifer’s relatives (whose source of resources isn’t definitely transparent either) that his father is a cosmetic surgeon with several clinics behind on a aged continent. The reason is hopelessly naïve: Quack-quack thinks he’ll never have to deliver them to his filthy-rich hillbilly folks who are behind in their Monegasque palace whose décor, as seen in partial one, suggests Martha Stewart on steroids. But they all fly over, land in Kansas City and afterwards expostulate a engine home to L.A. (and later, Vegas). Though drifting directly to a City of Angels would’ve been easier, a assembly wouldn’t have had a possibility to see these yokels accommodate their U.S. equivalents, who are all eremite nuts, misers, dangerous or all of a above. A method involving a detriment of their 15 credit cards is generally lame, inspiring the film’s many needlessly drawn-out try during humor.
Like in internal box-office monsters Intouchables and Serial (Bad) Weddings, what passes for wanton amusement in France can be viewed as racially unresponsive in a U.S. and elsewhere. Stephanie’s wannabe boyfriend, Georges (Ralph Amoussou), for example, is black and tasered on a craft because, well, he listens to swat song with pithy lyrics and he’s black so he contingency be a terrorist. Ha-ha-ha. In another scene, Georges is somewhere in a farming U.S. when a outpost stops to give him a lift. Inside are several organisation in white robes with pointy hoods. Even if they weren’t racially inconsiderate, a ostensible gags are intensely lazy, given they assume usually saying a black chairman being tasered or removing into a outpost with KKK members is in an of itself funny. These gags aren’t usually descent yet also sloppy, with no genuine setup and payoff, relying on man’s basest instincts to measure laughs while reinforcing stereotypes.
Possibly an even worse delinquent is a stage in that a Tuches accommodate a organisation of Native Americans, nothing of whom seem to be played by actual, we know, Native Americans. Shockingly, they demeanour reduction like 21st-century U.S. adults from a reservation than a organisation of organisation in Indian fair outfits. The fun is ostensible to be that Grandma (Claire Nadeau), who usually speaks subtitled gibberish, manages to promulgate with them given she once fell asleep, drunk, while examination Dances with Wolves. While a thought itself isn’t remotely funny, that’s not a genuine problem; what’s descent is not usually how they demeanour yet also how a filmmakers haven’t even worried to have Grandma indeed pronounce something imitative a language, most reduction tangible Sioux (which is oral in Wolves yet not in Kansas or Colorado, where a family is presumably roving by to get to California from Kansas City).
As in a initial film, a feel-good sentiments are extended and broadly applied. Tuche Daddy’s ardour with a chubby Latino gardener (Canadian hottie Christian de la Cortina) is ostensible to assistance explain a summary of toleration — there’s even a happy wedding! — yet this subplot includes so many tasteless, homophobic, transphobic and simply clueless jokes that they totally erase any of a goodwill a film competence have had toward a happy characters. The couple’s amatory rapport is reduced to usually anal sex, for example, while one homophobic impression suggests a elementary sex-change operation could spin a integrate straight. These Tuchebags are presumably even some-more clueless about a disproportion between passionate course and gender temperament than a makers of a definitely misled The Danish Girl, yet that film during slightest had ethereal rather than counterfeit performances, not to discuss fanciful frocks.
The Tuche’s essay is staggeringly idle and unfocused throughout, notwithstanding (or maybe given of?) 5 credited screenwriters. There’s no genuine third act to pronounce of and many subplots are introduced yet afterwards left hanging. What happens to Georges, Jennifer, a Quebec neighbors (no French comedy is finish though creation fun of a Quebec accent) or that slippery Francophone Hollywood talent representative that promises to make Stephanie a star? All of this would be reduction of a problem if a film supposing laughs aplenty yet this censor couldn’t even conduct a singular grin during a film’s during slightest mercifully brief, 94-minute using time.
The French word for nation hayseed is plouc (“plook”) and while these characters competence be adult all night to get ploucky, it’s never reduction than overpowering to watch.
Production companies: Eskwad, Pathé, TF1 Films Production, Prod standard 4 Ciné, Jouror Films
Cast: Jean-Paul Rouve, Isabelle Nanty, Claire Nadeau, Sarah Stern, Pierre Lottin, Theo Fernandez, Ken Samuels, Susan Almgren, Alice Morel Michaud, Richard Robitaille, Christian de la Cortina
Director: Olivier Baroux
Screenplay: Philippe Mechelen, Lionel Dutemple, Julien Hervé, Benjamin Morgaine, Nessim Chikhaoui
Producer: Richard Grandpierre
Co-producers: Romain Le Grand, Vivien Aslanian
Director of photography: Christian Abomnes
Production designer: Perine Barre
Costume designer: Sandra Gutierrez
Editor: Richard Marizy
Music: Martin Rappeneau
Sales: Pathé International
No rating, 94 minutes