by / September 3rd, 2012 /

A Few Best Men

Review by on September 3rd, 2012

 1/5 Rating

Director: Stephan Elliot
Cast: Xavier Samuel, Kris Marshall, Laura Brent, Olivia Newton-John
Certificate: 15A
Run Time: 96 minutes
Release: August 31st

A Few Best Men arrives onto screens like a frantic college student on coke arrives at a family dinner; bereft of the actual details of why it’s doing what it’s doing, only elaborating on the annoying semantics, and attempting to explain away the fact that it has absolutely no idea what’s going on. David (Xavier Samuel) has fallen madly in love with Mia (Laura Brent) while gallivanting about the southern Pacific. They are to be married at Mia’s parents’ house in Australia. Naturally, David must fly in his quirky group of plagiarised mates from England. Hilarity is painfully attempted, but does not ensue.

A drug deal gone wrong; a drunken, lovelorn disaster of a man; near cocaine overdosing and the anal exploration of a sheep. These are but a few of the mismatched dietary offerings of director Stephan Elliot’s cheap knock-off of The Hangover. A Few Best Men lunges from scene to set-piece, constantly searching for a way to shock the audience away from noticing how incoherent the screenplay’s characters really are. The construct of the four central friends is essentially that of The Inbetweeners. However, these far older, far more immature lads are so far removed from a sensible context that even a coked-up Olivia Newton-John can’t save the humour. And yes, there is a coked-up Olivia Newton-John.

There is an obvious attempt here to blend The Hangover with The Inbetweeners and wrap it all up in Fawlty Towers. However, the farce is managed so clumsily that it becomes intensely and tediously predictable, resulting in a catastrophe of the film. As it draws to a thankful close, resolutions are panhandled disingenuously to the viewer as what little narrative there was is wrapped up in a messy bow, cast over a computer generated sunset to boot.

While Kris Marshall slides through the entire film as the only reprieve from the madness, his character is still just a facsimile caricature stitched together from a dozen other films. And still, the closest thing resembling a laugh in this film is a barely amused snort when the whole wedding party is nearly killed half an hour into the film. A glimmer of hope that this travesty may have come to an end, before it ever got the cocaine to think it could keep going.