What the makers of this terrible film don’t seem to realise is that we’ve lost hope in this series the minute Paul Giamatti dropped out of part two. Now five years after the first sequel, Martin Lawrence is back as Malcom a.k.a Big Momma, although his love interest (who supposedely played an important role in the previous films) is nowhere to be seen. I guess they couldn’t pay her enough to make an appearance, so they explain in dialogue that she’s away at a retreat. Anyway, this leaves Malcom on his own to deal with his annoying stepson Trey, who wants to ditch a college education so that he can become a rap artist (thus his low I.Q). But when Trey accidentally witnesses a murder, Malcom decides that the best way for him and his stepson to remain incognito is to dress in drag, a fat suit and some ridiculous clothes, and stay undercover at an all girls performing art school. From this point on, there is sufficient story and comedy to fill out a 10 -minute short. Unfortunately, the movie runs 100 minutes, and as it rambles on, you can feel the life draining from it, like air slowly leaking from a helium balloon. There’s not a single laugh to be had. Believe me, I counted. But then again, it doesn’t surprise me one bit, seeing that the film’s sole joke was explored to its fullest in the first movie back in 2000. Nobody asked for a sequel, but we got one anyway. It was a flop at the box office, but that didn’t stop the studio from financing yet another sequel. This time around, even Lawrence himself seems confused to what he’s doing back in the role (yikes!). This is the worst movie I’ve seen so far this year, and any film that manages to beat it will have to be spectacularly awful (Breaking Dawn maybe?).
Categories: The Twenty-First Century