Ride Along 2
The main problem with Ice Cube as a comic actor is that he won’t ever actually let himself look ridiculous. It’s sort of an interesting place to refuse to compromise considering this is a guy playing a detective who kicked off his career by expressing a fervent desire to bugger the constabulary, but it runs through both of the Ride Along movies in particular. It plants a weird dead weight right in the middle of most potential jokes. He’s not so much a straight man as a hard man, reacting violently and disgustedly at any hint that he is anything less than the most prime specimen of alpha male available.
The worst example of this tendency in the sequel comes when James (Cube) and pipsqueak not-his- partner- butsoon-to-be-his-brother-in-law Ben (Kevin Hart) try to bluff their way into the party of a suspected kingpin. The voluble Ben is acting like a Nigerian prince, and part of his imperious impression involves slapping James right across the mouth when he talks back. Normally this is exactly the kind of role-reversal that comedy thrives on — the big mean tough guy put in his place, winding up all kinds of potential energy for what he’s going to do to get back. But Cube seems unable to look like a fool for even a second: he immediately clocks Ben right back, turning Hart’s mask of authority to mush. Potential immediately deflated, it’s just back to Hart bouncing around like a puppy on Kibbles N’ Meth and Ice Cube being just hard as the dickens. As. The. Dickens.
That’s not the only annoying tradition Ride Along continues. It also has that ’ 90s Hollywood flare for making sequels the same, but more. In addition to Hart’s motormouth we get Ken Jeong as a hacker who helps the pair crack their way into the crime ring they’re investigating. On top of Cube’s glowering we get a no-nonsense female detective played by Olivia Munn. There isn’t really a romantic subplot between the two of them so much as obvious suggestions from Hart that there should be: the chemistry between Cube and Munn is about as lively as the stuff between Marie Curie and radioactive isotopes.
In between the investigation, Hart is also supposed to be getting married to Cube’s sister, although most of the plotting here is of the “oh yeah, right” variety, seemingly just sort of retconned in to shove them into prearranged situations.
In Hart’s case, the wedding is just a chance to re-emphasize what a flibbertigibbet he is compared to Cube. Like, what kind of man, I ask you, cares about FLOWERS AT HIS OWN WEDDING? If you nodded along to that last sentence as a sage bit of tellin’ it like it is, you will find some laughs here, but for anyone who is aware that metrosexual is a term that’s like 15 years old by now, well, I hope you like Ken Jeong whining?
Still, at least Hart is willing to dive right in to staid self-humiliation. He certainly has a penchant for overacting, but after two straight films of basically Weekend At Bernie-ING Ice Cube’s grisly visage, it seems more like a case of overcompensation. And it’s sort of a shame, because there are hints here — like a video game-style chase sequence — of both cleverness, or at least looseness, that die about as soon as we get another close-up of Cube frowning. Buddy comedies usually need two people willing to do something for a laugh to really work — one guy trying twice as hard really isn’t enough. ∂½
BUDDY COMEDIES USUALLY NEED TWO PEOPLE WILLING TO DO SOMETHING FOR A LAUGH TO REALLY WORK.