You can practically see the baton that passes between Will Ferrell and Kevin Hart in the blundering bromance "Get Hard," from last decade's bro-comedy king to this one's. The question is whether that baton is something anyone should have or want in the first place.
The buddy comedy arrives freighted with accusations of racism and homophobia after its world premiere at SXSW last week, with some decrying its recycling of racial stereotypes and gay panic — staples of dude-driven farces since Ferrell's breakthrough years on "SNL."
But there's a daring comedy somewhere inside writer Etan Coen's ("Tropic Thunder") directorial debut, which simultaneously trivializes and solemnizes the prospect of prison rape. Staring down the barrel of a 10-year prison sentence for accounting shenanigans, Ferrell's Bel Air buffoon James hires his car washer, Hart's Darnell — who's never been to prison, but is more than willing to take this rich clown's money — as his prison-prep instructor.
For most of the film, Coen and his team of screenwriters create a comedy that doesn't punch down at victims, but finds inspiration in James' fear of sexual assault in the pen, which may or may not be rooted in reality. (The millionaire's only familiarity with clink life comes from violent dramas.) It's a premise that must recognize rape's true awfulness to work — an acknowledgement that already renders most of "Get Hard" slightly more enlightened than the smug, throwaway line about how convicts meet true justice when they drop the soap.
Frightened as it is of hypermasculine men, Coen's comedy is really about making a man manlier. James is as soft as a down pillow when we first meet him, crying his eyes out in an uncomfortable close-up. He wakes up doing yoga poses and fails to stand up to his grasping fiancée (Alison Brie) when she plans an addition to the blueprints of their already hulking manor.
James can make his boss/future father-in-law (Craig T. Nelson) $28 million in a day, but seems to take no joy in sucking up money from the stock market; he simply looks constipated after a day at the office. With his wiry hair and untidily strewn teeth, Ferrell fails to convince as a Reagan-worshipping Wall Street shark — an emblem of the rarefied income bracket broadly satirized by the comedy in the first act.