Not everyone likes Nick Swardson. Critics panned what is perhaps his most iconic film, “Grandma’s Boy.” Peter Howell of the LA Times notably stated “I may require therapy after seeing this.” I am not one of those people.
As someone who loves his stand up comedy and absolutely adored “Grandma’s Boy”, which for all its flaws, does what it sets out to do extremely well and is a quintessential “stoner comedy,” I went into “Bucky Larson: Born to be a Star” with high expectations.
I walked out with my very faith in humanity shaken.
To think that people spent $10 million on this movie, that dozens of producers, writers and directors all thought “this is a great idea for a movie” is utterly mind-boggling.
The entire film focuses on a single joke, which consists of Swardson shrieking loudly while masturbating.
That’s it. That’s the entire driving force behind the plot, with the exception of a painfully shoe-horned romance subplot that is less believable than Swardson’s tacky fake teeth.
“Bucky Larson: Born to be a Star” attempts to cobble together “Orgasmo”, a film about an innocent Mormon who gets sucked into the illicit world of pornography, and “The Jerk”, without understanding why either of these cult classics is actually funny.
In “Bucky Larson”, Bucky is the son of two ‘70s era Midwestern porn stars, and believes his fate is to follow in their footsteps. He sets off to California in hopes of becoming a porno movie star. Despite his micro penis (yes, that is the medical term for his condition) he is a wild success, as his films help men who have inadequacy problems by making them feel better about the size of their own genitals.
“Bucky Larson” may very well be one of the worst movies ever made. Rotten Tomatoes, a review aggregating website, seems to agree with me. It shows that not a single critic who has seen the film has enjoyed it, granting the film an unprecedented “zero percent fresh” rating.
Swardson is cast in a thoroughly one dimensional role that would not have been funny for five minutes, let alone for an hour and a half. Swardson’s vaguely effeminate comedic style is nowhere to be seen in this film, which is surprising considering he helped write it. Still, all the other roles in this film have even less depth than his. If every aspect of a character can be summed up in a single sentence, that character should not be a main supporting role.
It was like pasting cliches onto plastic mannequins and filming them standing motionless. In fact, that would’ve been a better movie than this steaming pile of hot garbage. The only redeeming actor in this entire film is Kevin Nealon, mainly because he effectively plays a character everyone has met: the asshole roommate.
It’s hard to believe that the same production team that brought the world “Waterboy” and “Billy Madison” is responsible for this film. Perhaps it just goes to show how far Adam Sandler, another one of the writers for this film, has fallen.
To paraphrase “Billy Madison”: Mr. Swardson, what you’ve just starred in is one of the most insanely idiotic things I have ever seen. At no point in your rambling and incoherent film were you even close to anything that could be considered a joke. Everyone who has watched this is now dumber for having done so. I award you no stars, and may God have mercy on your soul.