Two summers ago, I expressed my frustration with the inertia of the “Hangover” franchise in my review for the carbon-copy sequel. I wrote, “‘The Hangover Part II‘ is like breathing in airplane air. Recycled, stale, but better than not having air to breathe at all. In essence, it gives you exactly what you expected – and nothing more.” Had I known yet another follow-up was in the pipelines, I would have begged the question, “Is it too much to ask for something different?”
In which case, I would never have been so unhappy to have a movie give me exactly what I asked of it. “The Hangover Part III” is definitely not the same as its predecessors. But lest we forget, change is not always good. In this case, it’s just kind of depressing to see how fast and hard a comedic sensation can fall. The series’ legacy will now likely be one of a studio that took a truly original concept, hackneyed it to the point of annoyance, and then besmirched its name entirely.
In fact, it’s hard to call “The Hangover Part III” much a comedy at all. Sure, there’s the occasional clever quip, but the writers’ new plot structure forays the series into a new genre entirely. It’s essentially a chase film, an action-thriller that squeezes out a laugh every once in a while.
The so-called “comedy” of this installment is lazy and, quite frankly, offensive. The nuance of the original “Hangover” is long gone, replaced here by cheap gags that are above the most immature of middle schoolers. All “The Hangover Part III” has to offer is homophobic humor, offering up gays as objects to be ridiculed.
Marshall and the Movies 
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