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Harold & Kumar Escape From Guantanamo Bay

3

That title. You have to gasp. One of the hottest potatoes of our time, annexed for laughs by a buddy bong-com. But Harold & Kumar 2 isn’t as outrageous, tasteless or vicious as its handle would have you hope. For every geopolitical point scored, there’s the dull splat of an obvious toilet gag. The diarrhoea opener, with Kumar (Kal Penn) facing the repercussions of the previous movie’s trip to White Castle, is a fair indicator of where this one’s arse really lies. Still, it’s fun catching up with the fellas, as genial and trouble-prone as ever.

Boarding the plane for Amsterdam, the pair spark a false bomb alert that sets them on a fast-track to Gitmo… for all of five minutes. Just enough time to squeeze out a few of the film’s casually homophobic jests (“I’ve never sucked dick before... I’ll bet it sucks dick!”) before we’re off on a reprise of the original’s cross-country formula: rednecks, boobs, Neil Patrick Harris and that giant, walking bag of weed.

You’ll splutter again at Pot Man, but only half as hard. It’s a similar story throughout – Rob Corddry off The Daily Show‘s Homeland Security pitbull overstays his ranty welcome, while the ‘Dubya’ cameo sees the filmmakers rear up for the kill... then retract their claws. Viewed in a post-pub haze, this freewheeling farce smoothly rolls away two hours. And with rules this loose, you wonder what this generation’s Cheech And Chong will make an enjoyable hash of next: Iraq? Katrina? Scientology? Could be a clue in the extras, but they were unavailable at press time. Dopes.

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