The only thing “Identity Thief” stole from me was $6.50 and my dignity: another movie review.

If you were planning on dragging yourself to a movie this week, stay home and watch the pedantic Jodi Arias coverage on HLN. Fuckin’ Nancy Grace. I guarantee you will be more entertained by that shit than Identity Thief.  Just take a drink every time Nancy Grace is a raging bitch.  You’ll be passed out in 20 minutes.

Okay, to be fair, I did not walk into the movie in the best of spirits. I had a few too many cocktails last night and not enough sleep, so I sauntered into the theater like a walrus after an afternoon feeding. One of my New Year’s Resolutions (and the one that is most successful thus far) is getting to know and befriending more straight males.  Why, you ask? Well… I don’t have many straight male friends, and I always enjoy them. Lesbians can be tricky to be friends with (AKA they want to have sex with you and/or your girlfriend) and straight girls always get hurt around me. They start talking about how great penises are and start describing the part of the testicles that connects to the back of the… nevermind. Anyways,  I punch them to make them stop talking. So, straight males are the logical choice. We have a lot in common, and as an added caveat I now am only hanging out with straight males who like Mexican food because the only thing I love more than friendship? A friend I can split queso dip with.


So, my new friend Mike and I went to see Identity Thief… because… well, to be honest, we both actually wanted to see it. I love Jason Bateman and I think Melissa McCarthy is a gem.  Yea, it looked cheezy, but not this bad.  Here’s why:


#1: The movie took itself way too seriously.

With a soundtrack that would include “Milkshake” for at least three tracks , the rest of the movie centered around the heartfelt friendship between a con-woman (McCarthy) and the man whose identity she stole (Bateman). In case you have not turned on a TV in the last two months, that’s pretty much the premise. Bateman goes down to Florida, and through the shaky plot a plan emerges to get McCarthy back to Denver to save Bateman’s job. ROAD TRIP! I’m picturing 100% Tommy Boy options here. M&Ms in the dashboard, hitting a deer, killer bees… SOMETHING. But no! A “serious” friendship develops and McCarthy “opens up” about her troubled past while Bateman has a change of heart. HIT A BEAR OR FUCK A BLOW UP DOLL OR SOMETHING! So. Fucking. Boring.


#2: T.I. is in the movie. And has actual dialogue. “Man, we in a trunk!” Brilliant.


#3: Bateman “sees the light” about McCarthy.

Ok, so some bitch stole your identity and ruined your life and credit and possibly your marriage. You track her down, and after a couple days of hearing her sing like a douchebag to car radio and learning her touching backstory, you let her go and let your life potentially go to shit? No, Jason. No one would do that. Not even Bluth.  A much more realistic picture: Bateman tasers McCarthy, puts her in the trunk, and drives back to Denver listening to “This American Life” podcasts all the way there. BOOM. Movie over. Everyone go home.


#4: The movie promotes bringing babies to jails.

The last scene in the movie shows Bateman bringing his whole family, including a newborn, to a women’s correctional facility to visit McCarthy. They play board games and McCarthy shows the family her “A+” from jail high school econ class. She shoves off the good grade amidst the congratulations from PRETTY MUCH COMPLETE STRANGERS and says, “Awww shucks, but no one will hire an ex-con in 3 years.” To which Bateman replies, “I think I know of a spot opening up at my firm.” WHAAAAAA? You brought your baby to jail, and now THIS?! Everything’s just jellybeans and roses and cavity searches?!


#5: Toning down your look makes you beautiful.

McCarthy’s brash red hair and Mimi-esque makeup cause jeers and snickers from makeup kiosks and salon counters for the entire movie. When she finally “surrenders” and walks over to them so they can “fix” her, they tone down her hair and makeup, change her into a black dress with a diamond pendant, and trash the blue gingham top with sunflower embroidery. I don’t know about you, but this is the last messages anyone needs about their look. Especially HER! She’s a con artist, not a Bible salesman.  However, it is good to know that all I need to do to be beautiful is LOOK NOTHING LIKE MYSELF. Thanks, Craig Mazin (the screenwriter). Oh, Craig Mazin… you DON’T know who he is? Why, he was a contestant on “Winning Ben Stein’s Money!” He didn’t win of course. What a fucking idiot.


The only redeeming quality of the movie: Amanda Peet played Bateman’s wife. And she is beautiful. I just pretended that when she was doing the dishes after dinner with a look of concern for Bateman’s well-being, she was actually mulling over what to buy me for an anniversary gift.  I doubt I will be giving Mr. Mazin a chance to ruin my Sunday afternoon again, but something tells me he will be out of work for a while.

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