Little Brother is a hilarious comedy for anyone who has never seen What About Bob?, Planes, Trains and Automobiles, The In-Laws, The Cable Guy, Due Date, or any other movie where a mild-mannered rule-follower has his life upended by an annoying, sometimes unhinged, foil. For the rest of us, this sweet-and-salty comedy will seem a bit familiar and has little going for it except as the most prominent movie role yet for the freewheeling, often crude, and very funny comedian Eric André. He plays Marcus, a psych ward escapee who tracks down Rudd, his long-ago mentee from the Big Brother program, played by John Cena. But André’s antics feel more silly than transgressive when paired with a film that’s otherwise so conventional, which is surprising considering that, at one point, Marcus has a catheter forcefully removed from his penis. That leaves Little Brother, as likable as it often is, destined to disappear into the maw of Netflix’s ever-expanding catalog of mid-grade original films.
There’s more than a handful of decent chuckles to be had in Andrew Mogel and Jarrad Paul’s script, which clearly understands the challenges of living in the shadow of a high-achieving sibling. Laugh-wise, the film gets off to a promising start. For years, Marcus has been obsessed with his former — and very short-lived — Big Brother, even though they haven’t seen each other in 30 years. Yet Marcus continues to receive emails from Rudd, and when one message suggests that he visit him in New York, he plans his escape from the mental hospital where he lives (when his first attempt fails, he resorts to Plan B: launching himself out of a second-story window).
In the Big Apple, Rudd is a successful real estate agent up for a starring role on the hit reality series, NYC Hustlers. Matt Spicer — directing his first film since 2017’s terrific dark comedy, Ingrid Goes West — leaves a lot of jokes on the table regarding the inanities of reality-show production, delegating some obvious satire to Caleb Hearon and SNL alum Ego Nwodim as two producers. Rudd is briefly distracted from his big break upon learning that his brother has been in a car accident and is in the hospital. Initially assuming it’s his biological older brother Josh (Chris Meloni), Rudd is stunned to learn the patient is actually Marcus. Rudd barely remembers Marcus, since he cruelly ditched him as a Big Brother 30 years ago and was only in the program because it would look good on his college application.
From the moment the exasperating but sweet-natured Marcus is invited to return home with Rudd, the movie follows a predictable trajectory. Marcus quickly ingratiates himself with the family, thanks to Rudd’s sympathetic, philanthropic wife, Deirdre (Michelle Monaghan, echoing Julie Hagerty’s benevolent spouse from What About Bob?), who is soon taking Marcus’s advice on how to spice up the couple’s sex life. Meanwhile, when the reality show producers get wind of Rudd’s history as a Big Brother, they put the unpredictable Marcus on the show, which angers Rudd even more. However, it does attract the amorous attention of Rudd’s assistant Mia (Sherry Cola), who may have something to do with her boss’ emails to Marcus. Rudd and Marcus’ eventual bonding will surprise no one, although any movie where a major emotional speech is delivered via electrolarynx definitely earns some comedy points.
The movie marks a modest step forward for André, who gives an enjoyably loose performance that shows he can inhabit a character fully enough for it to be more than just a 100-minute goof. The former star of Adult Swim’s hilarious The Eric André Show manages to evoke a fair amount of sympathy and projects a disarming lack of guile as a poor but sensitive sap who craves connection so deeply that he’s spent years idolizing a man who hasn’t given him a thought in three decades. André’s superpower, though, is shamelessness, and here he’s not afraid to drool for the camera, shower naked on a golf course, pee out a car window, and generally look ridiculous.
For Cena, Little Brother is a push. The former wrestler, whose disapproving frown makes his rubbery face look as though it’s about to slide off his head, has charm to spare in the straight-man role. There’s nothing more disarming than a tough guy playing against his image and Cena is game all the way, although Little Brother is further proof that his career is trending towards Arnold Schwarzenegger territory; there’s still nothing to suggest he can eventually match fellow ex-wrestler Dwayne Johnson’s vastly underappreciated dramatic performance in The Smashing Machine.
Despite André’s showcase scenes, the movie gets its biggest laughs from a generous serving of one-liners (Marcus’s father died on 9/11—”in an unrelated casino fire”). Meloni also scores as the overachieving Josh, whose passive-aggressive treatment of his younger brother and ostentatious celebrity name-dropping create some amusing parallels with Rudd’s behavior toward Marcus. In fact, the movie rests upon a slim but legitimate foundation in the realities of brotherly dynamics, which lends a bit of heft to the comedy. But none of it is enough to make Little Brother feel like anything more than a pleasantly watchable distraction designed to satisfy the Netflix algorithm as much as the viewer.
We want to hear from you. Share your perspective in the comments below, and please keep the conversation respectful.
Your comment has not been saved
This space is open for discussion.
Be the first to share your thoughts.
Leave a Reply