We’re the Millers

We’re the Millers follows Jason Sudeikis’ David Clark, a small-time drug dealer, as he reluctantly agrees to smuggle a huge shipment of marijuana for his affable boss (Ed Helms’ Brad Gurdlinger), with the film detailing the over-the-top wackiness that ensues after David hires three people (Jennifer Aniston’s Rose, Emma Roberts’ Casey, and Will Poulter’s Kenny) to pose as his straight-laced family. Filmmaker Rawson Marshall Thurber, working from a script by Bob Fisher, Steve Faber, Sean Anders, and John Morris, has infused the early part of We’re the Millers with a pervasively appealing feel that’s perpetuated by Sudeikis’ charismatic turn and a smattering of laugh-out-loud funny moments, and it does go without saying that the movie’s novel premise is initially employed to strikingly, irresistibly entertaining effect. (Aniston’s wet blanket of a performance is consequently, at the outset, not as problematic as one might’ve feared.) It’s only as We’re the Millers progresses into its midsection that one’s interest first begins to wane, as the narrative adopts an increasingly stagnant feel that’s compounded by an emphasis on hackneyed, uninteresting elements (eg the obligatory yet boring romance between Sudeikis and Aniston’s respective characters). The less-than-subtle bent of the paint-by-numbers script (eg Sudeikis’ David learns a series of lessons by movie’s end) ensures that We’re the Millers peters out significantly in its rather endless final stretch, which confirms the movie’s place as a promising comedy that ultimately succumbs to the worst and most needless conventions that Hollywood has to offer.

** out of ****