Tanya Batson-Savage, Freelance Writer
FBI agent Malcolm Turner (Martin Lawrence) in 'Big Momma's House 2'. - CONTRIBUTED
BEWARE! BIG Momma's back. Once again, Hollywood has hit us with an unexplainable sequel and alas, there are no surprises to be had from this film. It offers what anyone going in should expect, some inane comedy addled by weak writing and weak performances.
Big Momma's House 2 is clearly where comedy clichés go to die (or at least take some very long vacation). The flick is (to use the term loosely) written by Don Rhymer and directed by John Whitesell. The plot plods along with nary a care in the world as it follows a 'join the dots' formula that would have posed no trouble to a toddler. To add to the weak story line is the very poor characterisation, and the lack of development of not merely the characters, but the relationships between them.
The story follows FBI Agent Malcolm Turner's (Lawrence) return to deep cover once more as Big Momma, a gun-toting granny with sufficient cellulite to warrant their own zip code. This time Turner/Big Momma has to play nanny to the unhappy family, the Fullers.
Rather than bother to create a real storyline, Big Momma is merely put in situations that are presumed should be funny. So she is paraded in a spa, in a nightclub, doing a Bo Derek impression on the beach, doing cheerleading. One can really only wonder how Nia Long has allowed herself to get wrapped up in this flick.
Martin Lawrence is the star of the show and there is no one in the entire cast who can offer him a moment's reprieve by carrying some of the laughter. The best they could come up with is the sand-eating baby of the family. The wife, the husband and the two older girls are beyond uninteresting and the film would have worked just as well if one had merely inserted cardboard cut-outs in their stead.
UNIMAGINATIVE FLUFF
In truth, Big Momma's House 2 is not the worst comedy ever written or produced; there have been more painfully created stories and one can, with great confidence, say there will be others. What truly cuts, however, is that Martin Lawrence can do better than this.
Though one has not seen any evidence of this in recent history, there was a time when he was funny. It is quite sad that he has merely been reduced to a bad fat joke. Indeed, that one can laugh on the rare occasion says something for Martin's skills, because the script is unimaginative fluff. To its credit, the film has created a question that could plague philosophers for ages to come - why does Big Momma wear a thong?
Big Momma's House 2 is an unimaginative farce, but then that's no surprise. Of course, if you looked at the trailer or the poster showing Big Momma fixing her derailed underwear and you laughed uproariously, then you may be able to mine some humour from this flick. Otherwise, beware, because Big Momma's back!
