REVIEW - WE'RE THE MILLERS

Disposable comedy, the likes of which tend to make me wonder why they ever got made at all. They represent no grand artistic endeavour, seemingly existing only to satisfy an audience's thirst for humour and little else. In principle, that's enough for me. In practice, We're the Millers is not. It still makes me wonder why it ever got made at all. A drug dealer in debt to his boss, a stripper left penniless by her boyfriend, a runaway living on the streets and a pitiful but loveable 18-year-old abandoned by his mother. They form a fraudulent family in the hope that they won't get stopped by border police when smuggling 'a smidge and a half' of marijuana from Mexico to the US because they just look too darn cute. Hijinks ensue! That's basically it. If that wasn't more insightful than the actual screenplay (which took four actual writers to construct), I'll be mightily surprised. The story flails around in search of tenuous comedic hooks, managing most of the time to settle in some strange limbo between absurdity and banality. It has the tenor of desperation, like a sit-com on its last legs, after all the funny concepts have dried up. Never egregiously bad, never particularly good either, We're the Millers is likely nothing that will offend you in the instant, but also likely nothing that will linger long enough to even begin to. Jennifer Aniston takes her clothes off, AGAIN, but crucially without any sight of nudity, AGAIN, and appears to consider this yet another string to her bow, as her repertoire has now expanded to incorporate the new, fresh role of 'Rachel from Friends, only a stripper now.' Emma Roberts plays the homeless kid with the best make-up on the streets of any city. Will Poulter is the hapless comic foil, and far and away the most engaging and entertaining performer in the film.