There’s straight-up comedy sequel nonsense in the supremely silly Daddy’s Home 2 (2017) from director Sean Anders. Dusty (Mark Wahlberg) and Brad (Will Ferrell), father and stepdad to Sara (Linda Cardellini)’s kids are back, this time intent on providing their kids with the best joint Christmas ever. However, in this fun sequel to the 2015 box office hit about duelling dads, their plans go awry when their own dottie dads turn up for the holidays.
This one increases the star wattage, with John Lithgow and Mel Gibson joining the chaos as Brad and Dusty’s respective fathers Kurt and Don, giving a huge hint as to how these guys turned out the way they did. John Cena also pops up as the musclebound alpha male biological father of Dusty’s new stepdaughter, leading to plenty of laughs as these guys all attempt to get along and navigate the craziness of the holidays.
So, yeah – it’s very much like Bad Moms Christmas, but with dudes this time. Thankfully the film has some playful ideas up its sleeve, with Gibson riffing enthusiastically on his action man persona as Kurt, an unfeasibly masculine space shuttle pilot whose ideas and attitudes are stuck in a bygone era. It’s interesting as the film recognises that the type of role models that guys like Rusty had as children in the ‘80s probably didn’t set very good examples. Kurt is mad for guns, thinks violence solves everything and shows his affection by giving women a good old slap on the ass.
Lithgow’s Don is, of course, Kurt’s polar opposite, a man a little too in touch with his feelings and who makes Ferrell’s wet blanket character seem like Rambo in comparison. He’s the sort of dad who thinks nothing of kissing his grown-up son on the lips in public. I believe the modern term for this kind of guy is a ‘snowflake.’
The film feels very current, trying to skewer redundant ideas of masculinity. You’ve got the tough guys trying to be softer and the weedy guys trying to be firmer, all in an attempt to be the sort of men that our confusing society makes them think they should be. It’s an entertaining sign of the times, with everyone trying to work out exactly what the hell the new ‘normal’ is.
It's a satisfyingly festive movie with the standard hijinks, like Brad trying to prove his manliness by attempting to chop down a ‘wild Christmas tree’ that turns out to be a 4G tower, resulting in electrocution. It’s the sort of loud crazy physical comedy stuff Ferrell can do in his sleep, with most of the humour derived from watching Brad get hurt or embarrassed, including an elaborate, laugh-out-loud set-piece featuring a snowblower chewing up and wrecking his meticulously arranged Christmas lights.
Wahlberg is good value as sweet, but kinda dim Rusty – a traditional Harley-riding tough guy jock trying to better himself by being more sensitive and understanding, volunteering as the school traffic warden and stuff. He attempts to find non-aggressive ways to deal with tricky ‘Dad’ situations, but doesn’t always succeed. His fury when he overhears Brad encouraging his son to embrace the ‘Friend Zone,’ is only matched by his mortification when Kurt’s follow-up advice is for the boy to “slap your spaghetti-suckers on her and give her a nice smack on the caboose.”
It’s close to genius the way this one has its cake and eats it, getting away with reveling in awful toxic masculine behaviour, while showing us how damaging that stuff can be, without totally condemning it. It’s an interesting watch for a new-ish dad like me who was weaned on badass Mel Gibson shooty bang bang flicks. Once again, the critics seemed to savage this mostly due to the fact that Gibson, with his dodgy private life, was in it. However, I can sort of see what the film’s getting at – the ‘80s were a messed up time and men of a certain age now find we need to un-learn a lot of stuff that we were raised to think was totally cool. We need to be careful about the stuff we pass on to our own children, but it can be hard to let go of that nostalgic action hero concept of pure machismo.
The movie, of course, doesn’t take itself too seriously, culminating in a mass singalong to Band Aid’s ‘Do They Know it’s Christmas?’ at a crowded movie theatre. It’s a perfectly festive way to end a daft, but strangely thought-provoking story. I’m finding it harder and harder to squeeze these films into my daily routine on top of everything else we’ve got going on. Some days, I am just incredibly grateful for a silly, easy watch just like this one. Cheers, lads.
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