21 Jump Street was the surprise hit of 2012. And that’s the key, surprise. That film’s preview played like the worst imaginable rubbish, so I (and probably everyone else) ambled in expecting the same. Modest hopes. Boy, was I wrong. I walked out ravaged by the legendary end credits and immediately bought another ticket to see it again. True story.
Understandably, my hopes for 22 Jump Street were not modest at all. They were downright immodest, vainglorious hopes. Achilles meets late-2013 Sebastian Vettel type hopes. Straining, aching hopes. I-took-ten-hits-of-your-first-one-now-give-me-your-second-drug hopes. And I’m not alone. (Okay, so I’m very alone, but I’m not the only one who’s excited for this movie. Happy?)
These big-league hopes all pose a bit of a problem for director duo Phil Lord & Christopher Miller, who delight in banging out double-take masterpieces on the keyboard of low expectations. (Remember the Lego movie?) So how do they follow perhaps the best and most original comedy in recent memory?
Kind of predictably, it turns out. The bulk of 22 Jump Street is an unabashed retread, recycling the same characters, gags, and plot points as the first. It lacks the freshness of the first film and pokes fun at itself for doing so — it’s very much in on the joke — but reveling in a do-over and mining it for laughs doesn’t change the underlying truth that we’ve seen a lot of this before. 21 Jump Street was a surprise, but nothing much here is.
Officers Jenko and Schmidt go back undercover, this time to Metro City State university (home of the Statesmen!), where they’re again tasked with chasing down a drug dealer whose wares are making the rounds. Football is played, frats are rushed, parties are had, classes are … joked about. Ice Cube reprises his career-best role as Captain Dickson.
It’s still strong medicine. Lord & Miller know what they’re doing, as do Tatum and Hill. The leads double down hard on the bromance, hamming up their long and inevitable act two “breakup” — Hill plays some of his best material while mopey, casting about like a jilted Twi-hard whose sophomore boyfriend just dumped her via SnapChat. (And whereas last time Tatum awoke consigned to the social sidelines, they now swap places and Hill plays the outcast. This of course squanders a fair helping of 21’s irony — maybe Jonah Hill still does the also-ran a little too well.)
Hear ye: The funniest pair of scenes belong to Ice Cube. ‘Tis true.
22 is more frantic overall, and — despite joking about precisely this issue — really does suffer a bit from big-budgetitis, cramming in chases and locations and fancy effects it probably doesn’t need.
Attention is lavished on the Tatum-Hill relationship, but this comes at the expense other characters. In 21, the supporting cast gave the duo a meaningful social world in which to operate, one that played to our fears and memories of high school. The other folks are shallower here, and stereotypes and character sketches dominate. Hill and Tatum are, it seems, all there is. It’s funny, but doesn’t resonate in the same way.
So 22 Jump Street isn’t brilliant like 21 and it probably can’t be, not least because we all know what’s coming this time. It is, though, a decent sophomore outing with quality jokes, good lead chemistry, and a handful of great moments. I’ll see it again, and probably like it more on second viewing. (Just like Hot Tub Time Machine, a personal favorite and perennially rewatchable classic I’ve seen probably 60 times: On my first viewing I thought it was just okay.) Some films just need a warm-up run before they fully bloom.
The first one didn’t. But alas, your first time only comes once.
Haus Verdict: A solid and sometimes epic rehash that’ll satisfy anyone not expecting lightning to strike twice.
Aw, Haus. I am truly surprised that you weren’t as taken with “22.” I know how much you reveled in the unexpected delights of “21,” and recreating the same magic is by construction impossible. But I think that Lord & Miller should be praised mightily for this sequel–one that gets the “average” moviegoer into seats and throws tons of jokes and gags at them in the service of an ostensibly overdone buddy cop story. Only the most obvious jokes (“It’s like a cube of ice!”) will hit everyone; most (c’mom., the building named for Benjamin Hill Film Studies Center!) will go over their heads. So, even though, the meta-commentary wore out its welcome about 30 minutes into the film, I still give this duo their due for bringing the smarts to the summer sequel.
CLG! Better late than never, as they, or I today, say. I did see 22 a second time (numerology demanded it) and enjoyed it about as much again. I will say on the flip side that I viewed 21 again recently and actually finally enjoyed it LESS — so the gap between the two is not as noticeable as I once imagined. And 22 still delivers some true comic gold, such as Jenko parading around and gloating upon learning of Schmidt’s gaffe. Top stuff. I do wish he drove the Lambo, though. Seems wrong to deny him.
I accept this response, Haus. Very well-considered!