Hot Tub Time Machine (2010)

First things first, Hot Tub Time Machine is the most awesomely bad (I say that affectionately) movie title since Snakes on a Plane. It says: “Let’s not pretend this movie is something it’s not.” If you can’t appreciate the swagger inherent in its unsophisticated title, then you certainly won’t appreciate its deep well of raunchy male bodily fluid humor.

That would be your loss.

The potty humor revolves around a group of former buddies, whose miserable middle-aged lives have caused them to drift apart. Nick (Craig Robinson) and Adam (John Cusack) are reunited when the third man in their circle, Lou (Rob Corddry), a lonely alcoholic, passes out after leaving his car running in his garage, while rocking out to Mötley Crüe. It’s unclear if it’s a drunken accident or a suicide attempt. Either way, the guys are the only ones who care enough to watch over him for a couple of days. So they plan a trip to Kodiak Mountain, the site of their 1980s Spring Break glory days, only to find that the resort town, like all of them, is a dilapidated shell of what it once was. That is, until they climb into a golden mood-lit hot tub and consume lots of vodka and Russian energy drink. Suddenly, they’re transported to 1986, land of “Where’s the Beef” t-shirts, neon leggings, and enough cocaine to coat the mountain.

Director Steve Pink has trod similar ground–middle age confusion meets 80′s nostalgia–with Cusack before. He wrote the screenplays for both Grosse Pointe Blank and High Fidelity, the actor’s last two good movies (okay, America’s Sweethearts wasn’t that bad). Although he’s a much better writer than he is a director, Pink’s penchant for slapstick and projectile vomiting does help the film to speed along nicely. There are no fancy tricks up his camera’s sleeve, but Hot Tub Time Machine is not that kind of movie.

This film plays out like the vulgar, potty-humored hybrid of Back to the Future and The Hangover that it is. Screenwriters Josh Heald, Sean Anders, and John Morris’ nods to the former include the presence of Adam’s 20-year-old nephew, Jacob (Clark Duke), who begins to blink and fade a la Marty McFly when detours are taken along the path towards his 1986 conception. Added to that are a morbid but hilarious running gag about the fate of the right arm of accident-prone bellhop Phil (Crispin Glover, intense and energetic, as always) and an equally uproarious scene where Nick takes the stage to “Get it Started” long before The Black Eyed Peas do.

But the writers’ own skill makes this unabashed borrowing less sacrilegious than it should be. The pop-culture referential one-liners and zingers scripted for both Lou and Jacob about their respective times are spot-on, and wickedly funny. Straight man Cusack even gets to lament that, “All we had was Reagan and AIDS.” It’s sad but it still made me chuckle.

Like Zack Galifianakis in The Hangover, Corddry is this film’s breakout star. He manages to be as gross and obnoxious as his nickname, “The Violator”, would imply while maintaining his likeability. Maybe it’s the fact that the paunchy, balding actor’s looks help him play up the masked vulnerability in the character. Duke, meanwhile embodies the geeky, awkward gamer spirit of Michael Cerra in a doughy Jonah Hill body. Cusack’s main gag is that he is the only of the crew who was an icon in the era of hair metal, while Robinson is the ham (with a side of cheese) who lets the audience know they shouldn’t take the film too seriously. After all, its players don’t.

My one bone to pick is that Chevy Chase is almost wasted as the mysterious time-machine repairman. It’s the kind of role that both Don Knotts (Pleasantville) and Christopher Walken (Click) took healthier bites out of before him.

Ultimately, Hot Tub Time Machine proves three things: 1) Hot tubs rule. 2) Time machines rule. 3) Making fun of the 1980s is always a good time. I want a hot tub time machine.

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