There's a point in Friday After Next where you wonder if everyone in the movie is an idiot except for Ice Cube. Then you remember he wrote it.
The third Friday pic sees Cube and Mike Epps' deadbeats getting robbed on Christmas Eve by a Santa-clad crook. They're left with a day to rustle up the rent money before a muscle-bound jailbird shows them some manly prison love. We're left with a cack slab of 'hood humour. The ensuing slew of goofy bad-mouthing wears thin fast, revealing a total story abyss, embarrassing ghetto stereotypes and the sight of Cube and the gang lolloping frantically through the 85 minutes, desperately hoping no one realises just how unfunny their movie is. TGIF? Thank God It's Finished.