No art to this bad sequel
Paul Blart: Mall Cop 2
(out of 4) Starring Kevin James, Raini Rodriguez, Daniella Alonso and Neal McDonough. Directed by Andy Fickman. At GTA theatres. 94 minutes. PG
Caddyshack 2. Exorcist 2. Speed 2.
To this small sample of the everexpanding list of wretched movie sequels, add Paul Blart: Mall Cop 2, a gobsmackingly witless excuse for entertainment.
It might even top the above sequel rejects for awfulness, since it possesses a perverse death wish. By abandoning most of what made the original Paul Blart an OK watch and surprise hit, way back in 2009, the film pratfalls into mirthless idiocy, much like the title buffoon played by Kevin James.
Blart was a lovable doofus in his first outing, riding his ridiculous Segway while patrolling a New Jersey shopping mall as if his life depended on it — which it sort of did for this wannabe policeman, when the movie turned into a Die Hard parody.
In Mall Cop 2, he’s just an obnoxious jerk with an inflated ego. Blart endlessly tries to coast off the brief fame from his accidental heroics of years previously. A single father, he’s also become even more of a paranoid control freak, subjecting his sweet teenage daughter Maya (Raini Rodriguez) to helicopter parenting that borders on abuse.
The scene shifts from Jersey to Las Vegas, in a breathtaking act of corporate whoring: Wynn Las Vegas & Encore Resort, site of the security convention Blart is attending, gets so many gratuitous plugs, it should be listed above the marquee as one of the main actors. Resort mogul Steve Wynn even makes a cameo appearance.
Two characters from film one are brutally dispatched in the opening seconds: Blart’s mom (Shirley Knight) is hit by a speeding milk truck; his girlfriend (Jayma Mays) becomes his wife for an eye blink, exiting after six days of marriage to Blart-induced “uncontrollable vomiting.”
They get off lucky. The rest of us who sit through this 94-minute belch have to endure not only endless fat-guy stumbles — aren’t morbid obesity and hypoglycemic comas just a scream! — but also such appalling sights as Blart punching an elderly woman in the stomach, knocking her flat and nearly unconscious.
All in service of another dumb hero story, with Blart seeking to stop a gang of professional art thieves (led by the inevitable Neal McDonough) from fleecing Wynn’s stash of van Goghs and other European masters.
Put-upon Maya gets dragged in, natch, and the rest of the plot is padded out with a bizarre and creepy attempt at injecting romance into this sad affair. Daniella Alonso gamely plays the designated love victim.
Andy Fickman directs, with as much flair as he demonstrated previously with the likes of She’s the Man and You Again. Which is to say, none at all.
The real blame, however, falls squarely upon the shoulders of Kevin James, who again co-writes with Nick Bakay while also taking a production credit. Why did they think it would be a good idea to make Blart unlikeable?
We need not wonder why this Paul Blart sequel wasn’t previewed for movie critics, prior to its landing with a splat at theatres on Friday.
We could ask, though, why James and studio Sony waited six years to make it, only to squander the time and effort expended.