Cocaine Bear: The Horror, The Horror
My minimal understanding of artificial intelligence is as follows: it’s what happens when humanity gets smart enough to put menial tasks in the hands of machines, since machines can produce the same – if not better – results.
This makes sense, as we lazy-ass humans have important things to do, amirite? (Like write movie reviews!)
Lately, the Internet has been buzzing at the horror and/or wonder of drawings and videos conjured by the almighty AI. Some view this as a positive sign of what’s to come; others are skeptical about the rush to implement such technology.
As a sci-fi concept, one of the great ironies of artificial intelligence is how most movies shroud this heady concept within the dumbest of plots. Will Smith’s I, Robot is a “great” example, while exceptional Blade Runners or Ex Machinas are fewer and further between.
I bring all of this up because Cocaine Bear plays like it was written and directed by machines instead of people.
It’s as if some Hollywood exec snorted a Tony Montana-sized pile of the titular drug, laughed the title into the Magic Movie Generator 9000X, and this was the end result.
A Title in Search of a Movie
Cocaine Bear is a title in search of a proper movie, and that ship sailed with Snakes on a Plane all the way back in 2006. The only thing that Samuel L. Jackson-starrer proved was that irony-drenched, pre-release Internet hype does not a cult classic make.
On that note, when will people learn that trying to manufacture a “cult classic” always results in something that’s called out, shamed, and dismissed for the try-hard piece of shit it really is?
Anyway: the film begins with a Wikipedia quote (so we know the filmmakers are “in” on the joke) before cutting away to two Norwegian hikers arguing about wedding plans before the titular creature makes its appearance. Less than 5 minutes in, and the broad performances and snarky Mark Mothersbaugh score (why, Mark, why?) announce that Cocaine Bear is going to be one of those movies.
Existential Questions
Despite a 95-minute run time, this may as well be a bloated Marvel epic that, with each passing scene, raises genuine existential questions at its reason for being:
- It’s allegedly based on a true story (but why?)
- It ostensibly takes place in the 1980s, but little attention is paid to period detail (especially in the fashions and hairstyles)
- Its over-reliance on winking comedy to move the story along stops the movie dead in its, erm, “tracks”
- The CG bear betrays any pretense of realism (which, ironically, might have helped the humor and violence hit harder)
The capable cast embarrass themselves with caricatured depictions of authority figures (Margo Martindale’s hard-bitten, gun-toting park ranger; Keri Russell’s hot-pink-pantsuit-wearing supermom), criminals (Alden Ehrenreich’s heartbroken hit man is like something out of a late-‘90s Tarantino clone), and innocents (two kids who discover a brick of cocaine (yuk, yuk).
Each sequence is laboriously set up, resulting in a narrative that feels like a string of bad Saturday Night Live sketches Frankenstein’ed into a feature film. The laziness in nearly every department turns what should have been a freewheeling, fun-while-buzzed romp into a slow death march.
Tumbling Through
I like Elizabeth Banks as an actress (her bit parts in the Pitch Perfect movies are funnier than anything found here), but her directorial efforts have been a nondescript lot that carry no distinct stylistic stamp. Was she drawn to Jimmy Warden’s (likely AI-generated) screenplay as a chance to do something that would raise eyebrows for the “audacious” title/concept alone?
Whatever the case may be, Banks’ methods of conveying the action (such as it is) are rote and ultimately indistinguishable from a million other hack directors tumbling through the committee-driven Hollywood meat grinder. Roy Batty in the throes of his imminent shut-down could’ve done a better job.
That said, I enjoyed the late Ray Liotta’s greasy performance as a mob kingpin searching for his missing product, even if the plot asks him – like everybody else – to act utterly moronic for most of his screen time. His hard-bitten looks and line delivery belong in the universe where the “good” version of Cocaine Bear sells out midnight screenings across the country. As it stands, his presence is both a sad requiem for a fine actor and a take-what-I-can-get redeeming quality to an otherwise unremarkable film.
1 out of 5 stars
The Plot Sickens: Did Evil Dead Rise? See what Jonny Numb says.
Crash Analysis Support Team
Jonny Numb
Jonny Numb (aka Jonathan Weidler) only disrobes before writing a review. He co-hosts The Last Knock horror podcast and occasionally pops up on Movies Films & Flix. His writing on non-horror cinema can be found periodically at The Screening Space.
THE LAST KNOCK horror podcast is a Crash Palace Productions’ featured show. Besides this site, you can find THE LAST KNOCK on iTunes and Spotify and more, with new shows posted every other Sunday at 9 PM ET.
Crash Palace Productions website design and creation from Brian Yount Digital Enterprises with banner and THE LAST KNOCK art from Palko Designs. Logo designs from Paul Belci.
(Cocaine Bear movie still from Universal Pictures.)