Because there’s nothing remotely daring or subversive about Dirty Grandpa – it’s a mainstream studio comedy with marquee names and the broadly commercial instinct of making us laugh at how “raw” and “edgy” it is. They’re working from the Seth MacFarlane playbook here, with a script that plays less like a story than a checklist of “un-P.C.” targets and “shocking” behavior. But, as with the bulk of MacFarlane, it’s neither offensive nor funny; it’s just sad. The stench of desperation couldn’t be more present if it were filmed in glorious Smell-O-Vision; it’s the most depressing movie I’ve seen this year, and I’ve seen two different documentaries about the Newtown shootings.
But hey, if you’ve ever wanted to hear Robert De Niro says lines like “You look like the keynote speaker at a butt-fucker’s convention” or “I’d rather let Queen Latifah shit in my mouth from a fucking hot air balloon” or, swear to Christ, “Peace out niggaz,” well, this is the movie for you. He stars as Dick Kelly, a former military man and recent widower; shortly after his wife’s funeral and on the eve of his grandson Jason’s wedding, he asks said grandson (Zac Efron) to drive him to Florida for – well, I can’t remember, exactly. “Motivations” are not a high priority in the script to Dirty Grandpa. Anyway, the kid agrees to drive him, and the table is set for the WACKY HIJINKS ahead when he turns up for the day trip, and discovers grandpa jerking off.
That scene is sort of the skeleton key to the whole movie: there’s no real set-up to the gag, or (forgive me) any real payoff. The punch line is telegraphed a mile away, it arrives, director Mazer points his camera at one of our most respected actors in the throes of masturbatory intensity as porn plays on the television in front of him, Efron is grossed out, we’re grossed out, end of joke. The entire movie plays like that: bad behavior, dirty jokes, and offensive slurs (women, gays, “retards,” black people, disabled people, and somehow even deaf people are the targets), photographed in the most rudimentary possible fashion, less at the service of anything resembling a narrative than as a serious of burlesque sketches, made for (and apparently by) people who think there’s nothing funnier than a “bad word.”
But because this is a mainstream comedy in 2016, some dumb asshole also thought they had to include a serious romantic subplot and dramatic philosophical beats between grandfather and grandson. The such twinkly interludes are, to put it mildly, a weird fit; when you have to pause your score for a few bars in the middle so the star of Taxi Driver and Raging Bull can insists, “I wanna get my dick sucked by that fucking college girl,” well, it’s kinda hard to come back from that.
Dirty Grandpa is one of those movies that’s equal parts bad and baffling; it seems to have been written and directed by alien life forms who read YouTube comment sections for a week and drew these conclusions about human behavior. It’s hard to imagine anything on the page that would’ve drawn the likes of Efron, Aubrey Plaza, Danny Glover, Dermot Mulroney, Adam Pally, Zoey Deutch, Jason Matzoukas (unless he was doing a special undercover assignment for How Did This Get Made?), or – even in light of all he’s put us through in this 21st century – Robert De Niro. And it’s hard to even write them off as paycheck performances; with an $11.5 million budget, nobody got rich off this one, at least up front. (It ended up grossing nearly $100 million worldwide, a tidy profit for such rank trash; see Mencken and going broke underestimating intelligence and all that.) They all looked at that script, at the scenes of De Niro complimenting his grandson’s “nice dick” and of Pally despairing that he talked to his deaf uncle “like a normal” and all the rest of it and decided yep, gotta get some of this action.
It’s not that dirty can’t be funny; far from it. Mel Brooks did it all the time, as did John Waters, as did Richard Pryor, as did Redd Foxx, as did the Farrelly Brothers (back in the ‘90s, anyway), as did Kevin Smith (back in the ‘90s, anyway), as does Louis C.K., as does Judd Apatow’s crew. It can be done, but by breaking taboos at the service of story or commentary, not by presuming the mere utterance of a profanity or invoking of a sex act or unveiling of a body part is the beginning, middle, and end of the joke. That’s not funny, that’s lazy, and Dirty Grandpa is one of the laziest movies I’ve ever subjected myself to. At least Freddy Got Fingered had some goddamn ambition.