Posted by: Dr P | August 1, 2009

The Hangover

Dear reader, I’ve been waiting some time to post this review, and in the meantime has come the tragic news of the death of the King of Pop. Or so they say. When I first heard that Michael Jackson had died, my thoughts went out to the family of the former Bury and Preston centre half, so beloved on the Gigg Lane terraces, and sold well before his time. Oddly, the next time someone said to me “The King of Pop is dead”, my reply was “Oh my god, first Michael Jackson and now the bloke from Dollar?”

But enough frippery. I’ve spent 6 hours in the car today in baking heat with two fractious kids. And me, fractious Daddy (which incidentally would be a hell of a name for Sean Coombs to adopt – first Puff Daddy, then P Diddy, now Fractious Daddy … yeahhhhh). So for me the true King of Pop is not MJ, not Mr Dollar, but the bloke who invented Irn Bru. Oh yes.

“When I’ve got a hangover, I don’t even remember my name!” – wise words from someone sat close to me, as I start this review. Oddly that’s precisely the premise of this movie. 4 mates (well technically 3 mates and the grooms brother-in-law-to-be, who no-one actually really likes but turns out to be the star of the film) head off to Vegas for a bachelor party, and wake up the morning after with complete memory blank. Crazily, they decide to stage the do a mere 48 hours before the wedding … and DRIVE. OK, can you see two flaws here? Yup, me too. In fact it’s 3 flaws, as Father-in-law-to-be hands future-son-in-law-to-be the keys of his prize car. You just know that’s going to end badly …

In my life I’ve attended a few quite superb stag dos. Indeed one was the cause of my only ever hangover. Yes, you read that right. Those who know me well know that from the age of 16 I was party to a splendid annual bet as to my ability to remain alcohol free. Initially it was a challenge set that I couldn’t go to Uni and not drink. Well I did – for 6 years, and then for another 6 remained totally stone cold sober. The ultimate prize? 12 quid. Oh yes, my abstinence from the demon drink earned me a quid a year. All from the pocket of my ultimate hero, Sir Nicholas Garvey Hudson, who some of you reading this will know very well! Anyway, after Clive’s stag do in York I was somewhat delicate … so when the postman knocked on the door at 6.45am bearing a pristine copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, I did what any self-respecting bookworm does – read it from cover to cover in a completely oblivious state. For 2 weeks after I had no clue what had actually happened, so I had to read it again when my head was slightly less like there was that Cadbury’s Dairy Milk gorilla practising inside it …

But I digress (how odd for me!). So the lads wake up, they have no clue what’s happening, there’s animals in the completely trashed hotel room, a tiger in the bathroom, a baby in the closet, and … no groom!! One of the guys – now missing a tooth by the way – then discovers he’s married to a hooker (and incidentally, how many hookers look like Heather Graham!?!?!!?). So you can imagine how much the lads are panicing … and it gets much, much, much worse – and funnier as they start to follow their trail and uncover the events of the night.

There’s little point giving you the spoilers here as to what’s happened to the groom, how this all kicked off, and what happens in the end, but suffice to say, it matters little because you’ll be in hysterics and snorting throughout – well if you’ve any sort of sense of humour you will. This was a corking film, one of my favourite comedies of recent times without a doubt. The casting of the odd, beardy brother-in-law-to-be Alan is a work of genius; he steals several scenes and his general contrast to the other guys is a delight to watch. I’ve added a few quotes togive you some idea of the brilliance at work here!

Enjoy – we did!!

Memorable moments

Alan Garner: [while picking up Phil at the school where he works] Did you have to park so close?
Doug Billings: Yeah, what’s wrong?
Alan Garner: I shouldn’t be here.
Doug Billings: Why is that, Alan?
Alan Garner: I’m not supposed to be within two hundred feet of a school… or a Chuck E. Cheese.

Phil Wenneck: [his answering machine message] Hey, this is Phil. Leave me a message, or don’t, but do me a favor – don’t text me, it’s gay.

Stu Price: They’re really a lot more mature than you think.
Phil Wenneck: [yelling from outside] Paging Doctor Faggot! Paging Doctor Faggot!
Melissa: You should probably go, Doctor Faggot.

Alan Garner: You guys might not know this, but I consider myself a bit of a loner. I tend to think of myself as a one-man wolf pack. But when my sister brought Doug home, I knew he was one of my own. And my wolf pack… it grew by one. So there… there were two of us in the wolf pack… I was alone first in the pack, and then Doug joined in later. And six months ago, when Doug introduced me to you guys, I thought, “Wait a second, could it be?” And now I know for sure, I just added two more guys to my wolf pack. Four of us wolves, running around the desert together, in Las Vegas, looking for strippers and cocaine. So tonight, I make a toast!

Alan Garner: Gambling? Who said anything about gambling? It’s not gambling when you know you’re gonna win. Counting cards is a foolproof system.
Stu Price: It’s also illegal.
Alan Garner: It’s not illegal, it’s frowned upon, like… masturbating on an airplane.
Phil Wenneck: I’m pretty sure that’s illegal too.
Alan Garner: Yeah, maybe after 9/11, where everybody got so sensitive. Thanks a lot, Bin Laden!


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