Director: Doug Ellin
Cast: Adrian Grenier, Kevin Connolly, Kevin Dillon, Jerry Ferrara and Jeremy Piven
Running Time: 104 minutes
Release Date: June 19th
If Homeland had ended with Nicholas Brody detonating his suicide bomb in an underground bunker packed with important leaders, thus capping a tense, well-constructed tale at one season, we’d still be talking about one of the great shows of the modern era.
Alas, ratings and test audiences meant that Brody would stutter about long past his organic expiration date and his platform would meander and suffer as a result. Not every show needs more than 12 or 13 hours to tell their story. Deadwood aside, none of them really require a movie to truly wrap things up, either. Entourage, having previously faded out with a suitably shitty and uninspired conclusion after 96 (!) episodes, certainly does not.
What could and really should have been a sharp satire about the backstabbing politics and ruthless greed of the Hollywood system instead quickly degenerated into vicarious wish fulfilment and lifestyle porn for bros, bro. Vacuity is the name of this particular wretched game and while the silver screen version of Entourage contains plenty of bacchanalia and bad behaviour, it’s nowhere near as outrageous and offensive as it needs to be. Though the misogyny, homophobia and casual racism is present and incorrect, it feels curiously half-hearted. Kevin Dillion’s Cro-Magnon rapist-in-waiting Johnny Drama is about as welcome and outdated as a Jim Davidson routine and his presence is genuinely uncomfortable but you wind up feeling sorry for a tired-looking Dillon as he strains to make this husk work – well, as much as you can feel sorry for a dude who got paid a couple of million for this bullshit, at least.
Everyone looks tired here, most notably walking talking lump of petrified wood Kevin Connolly – receiving top billing for reasons unknown – whose whiny, unbearable E has somehow become an irresistible fuck machine as he waits on impending fatherhood. Elsewhere, Jerry Ferrera has had the temerity to get in shape so his easy-going, suddenly-mega-rich Turtle is now a target of ridicule (?) from his boys and UFC sensation Ronda Rousey who finally lands a victory on the big screen in that she actually registers as a real human being. Emily Ratajkowski fares less well, unable to expand on good work with a brief plot device role in Gone Girl here as she ultimately emerges as the film’s MacGuffin, or, rather, her vagina does. You see, the ‘plot’, such as it is, hinges on who gets to fuck her; sexy, apparently super-talented and bulletproof superstar Vinny Chase or slovenly, creepy money man Travis McCredle, as played by poor Hayley Joel Osment.
Vinny’s got this amazing movie, right? It’s called Hyde and it’s about a DJ/mutant hybrid (?) who shoots drugs into the mouths of club-goers (??) and may or not be a superhero but the movie is brilliant. A masterpiece, Vinny’s directorial debut (because there’s nothing he cannot succeed at) will eventually go on to win critical acclaim and award nominations while grossing over $450 million worldwide. Before that utter nonsense can occur, the disgusting Travis (he also treats women like meat but he’s not carved out of marble so it’s not okay) puts up a few roadblocks because he’s jealous of Vinny and Emily’s blossoming relationship. Don’t worry, he gets his comeuppance and the good guys win and Vinny gets to bed the supermodel. Presumably, for Entourage is strangely chaste when it comes to actual rutting, though we do learn that E is “amazing” in bed from a much younger, hilariously out of his league blonde. Because why not?
Speaking of, Mark Wahlberg (who inspired this whole mess) sleepwalks into the movie for about 30 seconds to plugs his new reality show, dropping its title and network like a lead balloon. Because why not? Pitiful Vincent Gallo-a-like Billy Walsh closes things out by pitching Vinny and the boys on making a movie about their lives, because why not? “That’ll never work!” says one of them (doesn’t matter who) and oh how our sides just split wide the fuck open. Before that, Drama wins a Golden Globe for his pivotal supporting role in Hyde that we never witness a solitary second of. Because why not? Incidentally, really? The Golden Globes? Not, say, the Oscars? Suspension of disbelief only goes so far, one supposes.
“I don’t worry, I just win“, notes Jeremy Piven’s one-note Ari early on. And so it goes. These guys don’t need to lose any sleep because there are no consequences, only victories and opulence and all the pussy a horny teenage boy could dream of. Entourage is perhaps best summed up not by its relentless shots of bare flesh, dick-measuring dialogue and juvenile ‘jokes’ but rather the Golden Globes montage in which our heroes strut the red carpet in slow motion, clearly shot far, far away from actual movie stars and nowhere near the site of the actual awards ceremony. To witness these painted-on smiles and stretched faces mug and gloat one final time isn’t just pathetic, it’s really, truly quite sad.