★★★
Released in a post-slap world, the fourth Bad Boys carries the double risk of also being Will Smith’s first hit at the box office still reeling from his darkest year. There’s a reason they called this one Ride or die. Do not be afraid. In short, improbable financial fallibility is about as dangerous as things get here, with frenetic direction and zany visuals only going so far as to mask the film’s safer instincts. Plus, Smith’s gigawatt charisma is so assured — at least on screen — that it’s an effort to remember that light bulb ever flickered. Nearly thirty years after its beginnings, the Bad Boys the franchise still has fuel in its turbo.
Of course, things were much simpler then. Back to 1995. Back when a police procedural was just a police procedural, with no further expectations of flashes and whistles. Martin Lawrence was headlining at the time – he was, after all, the biggest name – with Smith his co-star. As the odd couple, Marcus Burnett and Mike Lowrey, they ruled the streets of Miami. Good cops, bad boys. Many things have changed. Not the last part – there’s a nice riff, at the end of the film, on Run-DMC’s Peter Piper – but the stakes are way high. Taller buildings, cooler cars, faster action, hotter stars. The influence of Fast and Furious the films are strong with this one, certainly in the right opening.
With the exception of a theosophically disjointed subplot – an early heart attack kills and briefly reincarnates Marcus – the plot proceeds, at least, as usual. This is not a criticism. There is so much incomprehensible here that a little rote plotting proves welcome. When Joe Pantoliano’s late Captain Conrad of this parish is posthumously accused of corruption, only Mike and Marcus have enough confidence in his reputation to seek out the real rascals. With Mike’s wandering son Armando (Jacob Scipio) as the sole protagonist, the couple soon find themselves on the run and no longer trusting each other.
Directed, as before, by Adil & Bilall, the film is more bravado than grace but enjoys a certain zest and brazen vigor. It’s the kind of confidence you can only find in the aftermath of a historic success. Their aesthetic is kitchen sink chaos. Here, no blow fails to serve in the name of genius and bang. Indeed, it’s a rare and shocking scene where the camera stops moving. Much more common are shots zooming through bullet holes, moving in and out of security screens, or literally captured atop a character’s gun. This one is awesome.
A number of guest players would do well to stand out among the chaos. Tiffany Haddish has an all-too-brief riot in her cameo, while Vanessa Hudgens and Alexander Ludwig’s likable AMMO experts Kelly and Dorn are now a couple. However, each is nothing to Dennis Greene, whose gamer-boy Reggie steals the film’s best sequence. All for the call of duty. Yes, in the meantime. Eric Dane is a rather forgettable villain, a renegade in rank provides instant strike ability as an all too obvious slug. They all come together for a pleasantly explosive climax in an abandoned alligator-themed amusement park. The explosions are big, the gater’s mouth is even bigger.
Despite all the fun, a little less – of more or less everything – might not have been missed. Take Lawrence. Just as Marcus brings home the funny side of the film: “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, motherf*****s!” ” – there is something a little humiliating about the buffoonery demanded in his most outlandish material. The Miami skyline gets more than it bargained for in such a case. Smith’s is a more robust ride, even finding a dramatic meaty flavor to chew on. Well into his 50s, Mike may not be as infallible today as he once was. Now who does this remind you of?
T.S.