As a big fan of 1994’s Dumb and Dumber (I’ve watched it twice this year alone), I walked into the twenty-years-too-late sequel with a modicum of hope they may be able to capture some semblance of the energy and inexplicable comedic joy I found in the first one. It’s not there, and for good reason, Dumb and Dumber To more or less plays like a remake of the first film, but instead of getting a couple guys in their 30s to play the lightning-in-a-bottle roles, they thought it would be funny to get a couple guys in their 50s. It just so happens the guys they got were the same guys that starred in the first film, and both Jim Carrey and Jeff Daniels seem entirely uncomfortable as the inseparable idiot pairing, Lloyd Christmas and Harry Dunne, two characters that seemed to come so naturally 20 years ago and now they feel like forced caricatures.
It’s almost ironic the film opens with a lesson in comedic timing considering writer/directors Peter and Bobby Farrelly lost theirs about 15 years ago. Resurrecting the same jokes and pretty much the same plot, Dumb and Dumber To is like putting a 20 years retired NBA star back in the starting line-up and asking him to guard LeBron James. The end result is a bloodbath. Sure, there may still be a few rusty moves the guys pull off, a couple of jokes that evoke a chuckle or two, but you almost feel bad laughing as you’d rather just turn away, hoping it ends sooner rather than later, allowing for some semblance of dignity to remain.
At nearly two hours long, dignity is a lost cause. Harry and Lloyd eventually find themselves on a road trip searching for the daughter Harry never knew he had not to mention having to deliver a package to her while others have more sinister plans for the two idiots. I would elaborate on how the film mimics the original plot, but what’s the point? From that alone you can figure out exactly where this thing is going.
Both Carrey and Daniels look old, tired and uninterested in everything going on here. As I sat there watching, both the film and the minute hand on my watch tick by, my attention turned toward how I could possibly review this movie.
I guess I could talk about how Jennifer Lawrence filmed a cameo that was eventually cut (rumors suggest it was at her request), or how Bill Murray may or may not be in the film as a character named Icepick in a “Breaking Bad” homage (watch here) at the beginning of the film. I don’t really know, maybe he was listed in the film’s end credits, maybe not, I didn’t want to stick around for anymore of this tedium to find out, even though I understand there is a post-credits sequence about future sequels, which is about as close as this franchise is going to get to a part three. That is if you don’t count Dumb and Dumberer, which I don’t, and which I never want to see.
I can get a sick, mild laugh out of a cat named Butthole farting feathers and even chuckle at Lloyd’s confusion when hearing an Asian woman speak, but a couple laughs within the confines of nearly two hours of a tired, recycled and unnecessary sequel to a legitimately funny film isn’t something I feel comfortable wasting my time with, and neither should you.
