[5.6/10] My wild speculation is that if you watched this movie, chances are you’ve watched Family Guy. While Seth MacFarlane’s long-running cartoon show has its flaws, most notably a continuing stream of casual sexism and racism, it put MacFarlane on the map. The show’s anything goes, free association comedy charmed scores of night owls and altered state aficionados watching the program on Adult Swim before it re-debuted on Fox.
A Million Ways to Die in the West, MacFarlane’s co-writer/director/star vehicle from 2014, aims to replicate much of that humor, and it’s hard to know whether those sorts of gags have grown old or I have. Suffice it to say, the film offers three basic strains of comedy: human waste exists, reproductive organs exist, and intercourse exists. Most of the film’s outright gags are built around those ideas, without an extra layer of cleverness to them, rendering the humor utterly dire.
The other part of the film’s comic setup comes from the title character, Albert Stark’s, disdain for how hopeless and deadly the Wild West of the 1880s is. The film unveils any number of absurd, mortal perils for its random side characters to run afoul of, each less inventive or amusing than the last. But when it’s not parceling those out or cutting to its fifth poo-based gag, the movie devolves into extended MacFarlane stand-up routines, where he just riffs for extended stretches on some facet of the West before its mercifully over.
But honestly, I’m hard-pressed to complain. MacFarlane’s scatalogical yuks and observational comedy aren’t my cup of tea, but A Million Ways’s comic stylings are largely in line with what he’s been known for throughout his career. If you signed up for this film because you liked Family Guy, you largely got what you wanted in the humor department.
What’s strange is that while the film is theoretically a comedy, and spackles its plot with plenty of irreverent bits, it’s a film that takes itself surprisingly seriously. The core of the narrative, and with it the movie, is that Albert’s girlfriend, Louise, breaks up with him, leaving him despondent as she was the one thing in this dusty deathtrap of a life that made him happy. Then, newcomer Anna shows up to town, helps him to show up Louise’s new beau, Foy, and learn that relationships are a two-way street. Naturally, Albert and Anna fall in love, as Albert learns that the woman helping him get over his ex is the woman he really loves.
That’s a stock story, one that fellow rude cartoon South Park made fun of in “Asspen”, its episode taking the stuffing out of teen sports movies. But if A Million Ways had used the generic love plot as a necessary clothesline on which to hang its dumb gags, it would be excusable in some ways. Folks don’t come to Seth MacFarlane projects for the heartstring-tugging stories or human drama; they come for the exaggerated humor. Sacrificing the former for the latter would have been on brand.
Instead, A Million Ways tries to have it...well...both ways. Between scenes where characters announce their sore buttholes or a villain craps into a cowboy hat, the movie tries to deliver a down-to-earth character story about a decent man mistreated by his former love, who learns that he really has a lot to offer and should find a woman who appreciates what he brings to the table, rather than just benevolently “allows” him to be happy. Scene after scene, conversation after conversation between Albert and Anna hits on these points as though this was the kind of film that could sustain them, and it’s the utter pits.
For one thing, Albert’s whole arc and being in the film reeks of the lamest brand of “Nice Guy” apologia and fantasy. Albert’s laudable attributes are declared much more than they’re ever seen (apart from one altruistic rescue), and yet he manages to attract the perfect woman who helps solve all his problems, show him the meaning of true love, and tell him he’s been great this whole time, and it’s everyone else who’s wrong. Even if A Million Ways had the chops to pull off its surprisingly large number of more serious moments, its message comes of as trite at best and pernicious nerd wish-fulfillment at worst.
It’s also just overextended. Say what you will about MacFarlane’s T.V. efforts or style of comedy, but his quick-hit, random humor is much more digestible in twenty-two minute chunks than in a nearly-two hour movie. There is so much unnecessary girth in this film, long sequences that should have been cut, redundant conversations, and unfunny extended gags, whose absence might have at least made the movie feel leaner. A Million Ways drags from beginning to end, not a great feature for a film marketed as a silly, enjoyable larf.
So if the film flounders as a comedy and crashes and burns as a drama, what is it any good at? Surprisingly, it’s not a bad western! MacFarlane and cinematographer Michael Barrett do a nice job shooting scenic desert vistas and roundly enjoyable action. There are horseback chases, stand-offs in the street, and saloon brawls that wouldn’t be out of place in a straight cowboy movie. And Liam Neeson’s Clinch Leatherwood, the movie’s big bad, makes for a stock but believable antagonist. As absurd and/or abysmal as the movie’s other elements are, it gets the Western trappings just right.
That’s not enough to make it worthwhile though. Whatever Family Guy’s strengths or weaknesses, it doesn't really need you to like protagonist Peter Griffin. The show’s characters are mostly thin joke machines, with rare exceptions. But A Million Ways to Die in the West is so built around Seth MacFarlane, his humor, and his worldview, that it absolutely needs the viewer to find him funny, charming, and sympathetic for any of this to work.
He isn’t, and it doesn't. If you come to this movie for laughs, you’ll be confused by its miscalibrated and overlong attempts at straight drama. If you’re somehow hoping for a human story, chances are you’ll be put off by the onslaught of puerile gags. And if you just wanted a funny western, you’ll only get the latter half. Either way, if you want to watch this movie because you enjoy MacFarlane’s shtick, you’re better off just watching a Family Guy rerun, without the strange baggage he brings to this meh-worthy cinematic outing.
Review by Andrew BloomVIP 9BlockedParentSpoilers2020-02-26T23:59:50Z
[5.6/10] My wild speculation is that if you watched this movie, chances are you’ve watched Family Guy. While Seth MacFarlane’s long-running cartoon show has its flaws, most notably a continuing stream of casual sexism and racism, it put MacFarlane on the map. The show’s anything goes, free association comedy charmed scores of night owls and altered state aficionados watching the program on Adult Swim before it re-debuted on Fox.
A Million Ways to Die in the West, MacFarlane’s co-writer/director/star vehicle from 2014, aims to replicate much of that humor, and it’s hard to know whether those sorts of gags have grown old or I have. Suffice it to say, the film offers three basic strains of comedy: human waste exists, reproductive organs exist, and intercourse exists. Most of the film’s outright gags are built around those ideas, without an extra layer of cleverness to them, rendering the humor utterly dire.
The other part of the film’s comic setup comes from the title character, Albert Stark’s, disdain for how hopeless and deadly the Wild West of the 1880s is. The film unveils any number of absurd, mortal perils for its random side characters to run afoul of, each less inventive or amusing than the last. But when it’s not parceling those out or cutting to its fifth poo-based gag, the movie devolves into extended MacFarlane stand-up routines, where he just riffs for extended stretches on some facet of the West before its mercifully over.
But honestly, I’m hard-pressed to complain. MacFarlane’s scatalogical yuks and observational comedy aren’t my cup of tea, but A Million Ways’s comic stylings are largely in line with what he’s been known for throughout his career. If you signed up for this film because you liked Family Guy, you largely got what you wanted in the humor department.
What’s strange is that while the film is theoretically a comedy, and spackles its plot with plenty of irreverent bits, it’s a film that takes itself surprisingly seriously. The core of the narrative, and with it the movie, is that Albert’s girlfriend, Louise, breaks up with him, leaving him despondent as she was the one thing in this dusty deathtrap of a life that made him happy. Then, newcomer Anna shows up to town, helps him to show up Louise’s new beau, Foy, and learn that relationships are a two-way street. Naturally, Albert and Anna fall in love, as Albert learns that the woman helping him get over his ex is the woman he really loves.
That’s a stock story, one that fellow rude cartoon South Park made fun of in “Asspen”, its episode taking the stuffing out of teen sports movies. But if A Million Ways had used the generic love plot as a necessary clothesline on which to hang its dumb gags, it would be excusable in some ways. Folks don’t come to Seth MacFarlane projects for the heartstring-tugging stories or human drama; they come for the exaggerated humor. Sacrificing the former for the latter would have been on brand.
Instead, A Million Ways tries to have it...well...both ways. Between scenes where characters announce their sore buttholes or a villain craps into a cowboy hat, the movie tries to deliver a down-to-earth character story about a decent man mistreated by his former love, who learns that he really has a lot to offer and should find a woman who appreciates what he brings to the table, rather than just benevolently “allows” him to be happy. Scene after scene, conversation after conversation between Albert and Anna hits on these points as though this was the kind of film that could sustain them, and it’s the utter pits.
For one thing, Albert’s whole arc and being in the film reeks of the lamest brand of “Nice Guy” apologia and fantasy. Albert’s laudable attributes are declared much more than they’re ever seen (apart from one altruistic rescue), and yet he manages to attract the perfect woman who helps solve all his problems, show him the meaning of true love, and tell him he’s been great this whole time, and it’s everyone else who’s wrong. Even if A Million Ways had the chops to pull off its surprisingly large number of more serious moments, its message comes of as trite at best and pernicious nerd wish-fulfillment at worst.
It’s also just overextended. Say what you will about MacFarlane’s T.V. efforts or style of comedy, but his quick-hit, random humor is much more digestible in twenty-two minute chunks than in a nearly-two hour movie. There is so much unnecessary girth in this film, long sequences that should have been cut, redundant conversations, and unfunny extended gags, whose absence might have at least made the movie feel leaner. A Million Ways drags from beginning to end, not a great feature for a film marketed as a silly, enjoyable larf.
So if the film flounders as a comedy and crashes and burns as a drama, what is it any good at? Surprisingly, it’s not a bad western! MacFarlane and cinematographer Michael Barrett do a nice job shooting scenic desert vistas and roundly enjoyable action. There are horseback chases, stand-offs in the street, and saloon brawls that wouldn’t be out of place in a straight cowboy movie. And Liam Neeson’s Clinch Leatherwood, the movie’s big bad, makes for a stock but believable antagonist. As absurd and/or abysmal as the movie’s other elements are, it gets the Western trappings just right.
That’s not enough to make it worthwhile though. Whatever Family Guy’s strengths or weaknesses, it doesn't really need you to like protagonist Peter Griffin. The show’s characters are mostly thin joke machines, with rare exceptions. But A Million Ways to Die in the West is so built around Seth MacFarlane, his humor, and his worldview, that it absolutely needs the viewer to find him funny, charming, and sympathetic for any of this to work.
He isn’t, and it doesn't. If you come to this movie for laughs, you’ll be confused by its miscalibrated and overlong attempts at straight drama. If you’re somehow hoping for a human story, chances are you’ll be put off by the onslaught of puerile gags. And if you just wanted a funny western, you’ll only get the latter half. Either way, if you want to watch this movie because you enjoy MacFarlane’s shtick, you’re better off just watching a Family Guy rerun, without the strange baggage he brings to this meh-worthy cinematic outing.