Roughly 10 years after its jubilant release, the 2011 film Bridesmaids is already a widely lauded, gloriously hysterical comedy classic. Written and partially performed by Kristen Wiig and Annie Mumolo, it was a hilarious and immaculate showcase for female comedic talent brimming equally with euphorically funny gags and dramatic heft, all grounded in real-world authenticity. For their long-awaited follow-up, “the gals who brought you Bridesmaids” could have made a successor aligned with its predecessor, but, alternatively, they have lovingly crafted something radically different: a brazenly silly slice of absurdism.
Barb (Mumolo) and Star (Wiig) are two middle-aged, midwestern, and single women fervently devoted to being best friends with each other. They do everything together within the comfortable bounds of their Nebraska town, including working together at the local furniture store (Everyone legitimately denotes it as “the best job in town.); living together in their rustically ornate home filled with weird trinkets; and participating in their local talking club, where they serve their fellow members hot dog soup. However, following being laid off from their ideal jobs at that oddly revered establishment, they decide it may be beneficial to expand their horizons and finally take their inaugural vacation at the gorgeous Florida resort Vista Del Mar. There, their idyllic connection will be tested, especially because of their unexpected involvement with a man named Edgar (Jamie Dornan), who has been deployed by an evil supervillain to launch murderous misquitoes on the beachside town.
If you could not surmise it from the description, Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar is unabashedly bizarre in almost every conceivable way, but it wholly commits to that. A tightly structured exercise in unencumbered lunacy, Wiig and Mumolo have a nearly masterful command over their tonal form, both in their performances and belly-laugh-inducing writing. It successfully inverts reality to the extent that Ex Machina sea spirits, regal talking crabs, and the aerodynamics of culottes are not only feasible but warmly welcomed. Weirdly and aptly, the film is able to make conventionally normal behavior overtly funny in its abnormal landscape, such as the criteria for when couples are deemed official or what makes mixing all the drinks together at the soda machine so delicious.
There is not an ounce of cynicism in this heartfelt film, especially in the depiction of the titular characters’ friendship. It refreshingly celebrates all the eccentricities of its main characters, as opposed to taunting them. Like any smart genre film, the comedy is derived from the clearly and precisely defined characters. Barb begins to seek independence on her own terms, Star decides it is time for her to forge a new romantic relationship with Edgar, and Edgar discovers what an actual fulfilling relationship is. Wiig and Mumolo have an excellent rapport that elicits only the most delighted squeals, and Dornan’s brooding, slightly self-aware demeanor is perfect.
Mumolo’s and Wiig’s script balances so many elements with panache, whether it is exuberant musical numbers (Dornan’s romantic tale of woe song that involves prancing on the beach to seagulls may be the highlight of the movie), subverting genre tropes, shocking spurts of vulgarity, gleefully irreverent references to morbidity, or simply earnest characters embodying the best versions of their silly selves. Even the small elements are hysterical: Just in the aforementioned talking club scene alone, we receive a woman desperate to talk about horses (Phyllis Smith) and another explicably rigid to adhere to their group’s inconsequential rules (Vanessa Bayer). In every aspect, Wiig and Mumolo allow the comedy to render both the thematic and stylistic substance of their motion picture.
Director Josh Greenbaum defies the conventional aesthetic of contemporary studio comedies by delivering a film gleaming with enamoring vibrancy, wonderful colors, and energetic framing: He assimilates all these tones and threads seamlessly with the aid of solid cinematography.
Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar is an utter delight and joy to behold from its genesis to its conclusion. The film manages to be a lovely ode to both friendship and individuality. The plot is just a hair convoluted (though it could be argued that it is in service of the film’s gleeful, meticulous, and fully cultivated absurdity), but the film embraces everything inherently great about life and people and will not stop until you do the same. It is the best escapist vacation film with our two favorite midwestern ladies that you could ever ask for and the one we need right about now. It does not simply lift one’s spirits: It skyrockets them into deliriously high laughs. This film has the potential to be this era’s Airplane!: a film that does not ride on the coattails (or culottes) of others but thrillingly invents its own.
Grade: A
Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar is currently available on PVOD.
Photo Credit / Lionsgate
