Friday After Next Movie Review

There are many virtues to Ice Cube. He can somehow record albums, perform at shows, and appear as the token gangster in a million bad movies. Also, in the case of Friday After Next, he finds the time to write, produce, and star in a story about stupid cops, racial stereotypes, bad jokes, weed, and a kleptomaniac Santa.

Don’t ask.

The Friday series is starting to become like a bad horror cliché with slightly fewer murders and slightly more jokes. What were originally decent characters and something of a funny plot has turned into such a god-awful mess of a movie that even the free advance showing for which tickets were publicly given away tanked.

It could just be that I just don’t get it. It could just be that I have standards that have a knee-jerk reactions to lines as fake as “I didn’t know you could make snow in 80 degree weather” and “tastes so good it makes you want to slap your momma.” Who wrote this crap? Oh yeah… Ice Cube.

Now I’ve been a critic long enough to know that people don’t go to see movies to raise their IQ… but Friday After Next is so unfunny, so pointless, and so stupid that you might just go in a member of Mensa and come out Forrest Gump. South Central is safer than this movie. I feel like watching Clueless for intellectual stimulation.

Friday After Next is the coal in your stocking for the holiday season. The only reason you should see this movie is if you have a case of masochism and an hour and a half to blow.

You can stick that in your stocking.