Now on VOD, Good Mourning is the Machine Gun Kelly/Megan Fox/Pete Davidson/Tom Arnold/Whitney Cummings/Dennis Rodman/Avril Lavigne/Danny Trejo movie you didn’t know you probably don’t need to watch. (What, they couldn’t wedge Crispin Glover in there somewhere?) Kelly, here credited with his birth-certificate name Colson Baker, co-writes, co-directs and co-stars in this stoner comedy alongside longtime buddy and collaborator Mod Sun, and the result is a hangout movie that might be best watched while you’re glazed and baked like Grandma’s Easter ham.
The Gist: We hear the inner voice of London (Baker) as he wakes up to the sound of texts chiming on his phone. Why do people get up so early, I’m the star of a hit TV show called Good Bad People that had its series finale last night, I live in this swank multi-level Hollywood pad with my buddies/roommates/entourage, etc. The texts are from his actor girlfriend Apple (Becky G), one of which reads “good mourning.” What’s that supposed to mean? London can’t decode or decipher or interpret it or whatever, and when he calls Apple, she doesn’t answer. Thus begins London’s WORST DAY EVER, but not so bad that he doesn’t smoke weeeeeeeeeed, bro.
But that doesn’t happen until later. While he mopes around the house hoping it doesn’t mean she’s breaking up with him, we meet the rogue’s gallery: Leo (Gata) is a spacecase who’s into crystals and other pseudo-mystical nonsense. Dylan (Mod Sun) is a spiky-haired punk/delinquent-type. Angel (Zach Villa) is a weirdo fashion designer. Fat Joe (Boo Johnson) is an uberstoner who isn’t really fat. Kennedy (Fox, Baker’s real-life fiancee) is the only sane one and therefore makes sure the bills are paid and everyone’s out of trouble, although she walks around the house in the tightest human clothing possible and bends over in front of the guys and wags her butt and reminds them she’s only into girls, so clearly, sanity is relative around these parts. The doorbell rings and it’s Olive (Dove Cameron), London’s new personal assistant, who will heretofore show up in scenes with the absolute perfect thing he needs right now. Outside is Sabrina the Stalker (Jenna Boyd), who parks just outside the limit of her restraining order; everyone waves cheerfully as they pass by her.
London’s agenda today is twofold: Find out what’s up with Apple, and meet with his agent Maxine (Whitney Cummings), who aggressively motormouths about how many sexual favors she had to do to become one of Hollywood’s major power brokers. How major? She landed London an opportunity to star in the next Batman movie, that’s how. London’s torn. He’s convinced Apple is dumping him and feels like he should pursue her, but that might mean losing the biggest career opportunity of his life. Of course, random bullshit and related hijinks repeatedly derail his attempts to do either thing competently, including but not limited to: Meetings with Berry (Davidson), a parking valet and hopeless wannabe. A flashback in which Danny Trejo is dressed like Barney Rubble. A violent run-in with Dennis Rodman (playing himself). A disastrous meeting with the Batman director (Arnold). And also, the big dopesmoking sequence, in which Megan Fox fires up a blunt so big it makes a footlong cold cut combo look like a mosquito proboscis. Perhaps someone out there will find such a scene to be amusing, and laugh at it!
What Movies Will It Remind You Of?: The pantheon goes roughly like this: Cheech and Chong’s Up in Smoke to Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure to Dazed and Confused to Friday to The Big Lebowski to Pineapple Express to whatever the next great stoner comedy is, because Good Mourning ain’t it.
Performance Worth Watching: There’s usually a scene thief in ensembles like this, and Fox is the closest thing to it, in the sense that she’s the one who comes closest to actually being funny, although the argument can be made that nothing here is particularly funny.
Memorable Dialogue: Sample “comedic” exchange:
Leo: See this crystal here? Activate your sacral chakra. It cost like $5,000.”
London: I don’t have a problem with my dick.
Sex and Skin: Only Fox’s aforementioned skimpy wardrobe.
Our Take: Good Mourning is a classic case of the cast and filmmakers having a whale of a time hanging with their bros and S.O.s, making a movie, queueing up residual checks from streaming revenue, hitting the bong and not really remembering that such endeavors aren’t nearly as enjoyable for those of us watching it. Sure, this isn’t a Coen Bros. screenplay, and there’s no goal beyond rustling up a few yuks, but it’s uninspired and amateurish, a lot of lazy pothead fodder crudely stapled together in the editing room.
The movie’s problems are many: A bit of cremains comedy is burgled partly from Up in Smoke, partly from The Big Lebowski. Cummings’ high-strung agent never transcends shtick (and her improvised spiels are included in the inevitable end-credit outtakes). The celeb cameos are either DOA or inside jokes. And Colson makes for a flat protagonist who can barely be bothered to elicit the slightest bit of emotional investment in his predicament. It’s essentially the story of a guy who just needs to chill out a little, man, you know, get out of your own head, stop taking things so seriously, a sentiment that might find traction in a movie that’s less lackadaisical and doesn’t feel like 90 minutes of wearisome loitering. It seems destined to be watched by people who are too high to know better.
Our Call: Dude, this bag is mostly stems and seeds. SKIP IT.
John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Read more of his work at johnserbaatlarge.com.
