Netflix’s new comedy film Game Over, Man! feels like a dream imagined by a stereotypical hypermasculine douchebro in between coffee flavored drags from his vape pen. To him, the dream is epic. To you, the dream is a fever. It isn’t funny. It has no charm. The only time it makes you laugh is moments where its attempt at humor makes you cringe with uncomfortableness.
The script by Anders Holm follows Alexxx (Adam DeVine), Darren (Holm), and Joel aka Baby Dunc (Blake Anderson): three obnoxious friends and co-workers who are a part of a self-proclaimed group titled “The Dew’d Crew.” They spend their days hating their jobs as cleaners, while dreaming of a day where they can finally create their video game console named Skintendo. When their hotel is invaded by terrorists, the three bros must step into action and kick some ass.
With Holm’s script none of the lead characters behave with any rational; they feel as though their brains are fueled by a combination of Mountain Dew and corn chips. When The Dew’d Crew are running to safety after discovering the terrorists they collectively take a moment to slide down a staircase rail because, as Alexxx explains, “It’ll be badass.” When The Dew’d Crew gets into an argument they spend roughly 46 seconds (Yes, I counted) shooting bullets near each other until they run out. When The Dew’d Crew kill a terrorist Alexxx proclaims “This is video games 101. You kill bad guys, you take their shit,” Darren whispering “It’s true” in reassurance. The Dew’d Crew lack empathy, and wits, for a majority of the movie and in turn we never care about The Dew’d Crew.
This lack of empathy bleeds into other areas of the script with many attempts at humor coming across as sexist or homophobic. Early on two terrorists, Rich and Jared, use a homophobic joke and slur when disposing a body, and when Cassie, a female hotel employee, reports The Dew’d Crew for slacking on the job to their boss Mitch, he replies “Boys will be boys.”
These jokes and many others fall with a resounding a THUD as though attached to 3,000 pound anchors. The movie wants to justify these jokes by eventually castrating Mitch and revealing Rich and Jared are gay, but it can’t help but feel like justifications to use offensive jokes at carte blanche.
Other aspects make this movie go down like bitter and thick, cherry flavored cough medicine—slow and painful. DeVine, Holm, and Anderson display little chemistry as good friends (Even with seven seasons of Comedy Central’s Workaholics together). DeVine always overpowers Holm and Anderson, with his character’s constant shouting and fragmented line delivery. The others never get a shot at defining their characters with equally aggravating qualities.
In scene after scene Game Over, Man! wants you to believe that comedies don’t need a solid foundation including a script and characters. Do yourself a favor and unplug it before it begins.