people lazima we watch this one ama? april 25th!
The first time I ever heard the title Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle I knew it was a movie I could identify with. I know what it is like when your entire essence is overrun, like some carnivorous pon farr, by an intense desire for one of those tiny, steamed hamburgers. So that movie speaks to me. I was worried, though, when I heard the title of the sequel: Harold and Kumar Escape From Guantanamo Bay. I have only a passing experience with treasonous crime – would H & K ruin the franchise by getting all political? The answer, of course, is no. The titular “escaping” happens pretty quickly and we find ourselves in short order back in the deep surrealist road movie groove we were in for the first picture. I can safely say that H & K 2 is not just as good as the first one, it is better.
My memory may be a little hazy, but I kinda remember a Cyclops, a Unicorn and a hot chick preparing to perform an unnatural act with a giant (female) bag of marijuana. Also: Rob Corddry doesn’t know how to wipe himself properly. Mr. Corddry’s portrayal of the dunderheaded Homeland Security agent makes his old friend Stephen Colbert look like Dennis Kucinich at a John Sebastian concert. In an age of Sarah Silverman and Carlos Mencia it is pretty tough to do anything new with “racial humor,” but Rob Corddry finds a way to push buttons I didn’t even know were on the pad. Corddry’s scenes deliver shocks and yet, somehow, do not offend – this is the near-impossible alchemy that so many “party comedies” miss that both H & K films nail. There is a fine line between clever and crude and Harold and Kumar know how to stand with just their tiptoes over the edge.
We open the film just a few hours after Go To White Castle ends, with Kal Penn (Kumar) literally expunging the problems of the day before as he prepares to go with John Cho (Harold and, of equal importance, SULU!) to Amsterdam to chase after the chick from the first movie. On the flight over Kumar tries to spark one in the john and finds himself accused of terrorism. (Confusion over the words “bong” and “bomb” lead to the first THC-laced Abbott and Costello routine.) This leads Harold and Kumar to their long, strange trip to clear their names. I’d be a major dick if I gave away too many specifics, but if you’ve looked at any of the posters you already know this: yes, Neil Patrick Harris is back. And he’s riding a unicorn. How and why NPH is on a unicorn is complicated to get into, but NPH fans (by which I mean, the ENTIRE KNOWN UNIVERSE) will be delighted that his character hasn’t mellowed any.
What a fantastic world we live in that an out and proud actor can play “himself” as a whore-mongering deviant called to the female anatomy as Cookie Monster is to Chips Ahoy. Were I the type to frequent strip clubs, I’d expect to see NPH “brands” on the hind quarters of hipper dancers in the months to come. Neil Patrick Harris’ metatextual recreation of himself has the benefit of being fascinating AND hilarious.
Harold and Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay has a wonderful, stream-of-consciousness quality that hasn’t been seen since the early work of John Waters or, to a certain extent, Monty Python. This is a comedy that delivers and promises a great night out for groups of friends who want guaranteed laughs at the movies. And, without being jerks about it, the filmmakers are making a movie about something. The none-to-earth-shattering thesis – not to prejudge anyone – takes on a truly subversive turn when we are confronted with a radical concept: that a certain rich kid from Crawford, Texas with daddy’s job might actually be a cool guy. Wow. Heavy. That’s right up there with wondering if what I see as blue is the same as what you see as blue.
