Remaking the comedy gold with undercooked ingredients, the property that has been unfiltered up till now, gets spoiled by bling-y loud attitude.
Addison is not even a decent cheater. All he had to do was just copy the Frank Oz version and they could have been gold. But then Chris Addison, the director, is not the only one to be blamed, the writers who treats its audience like their dumb characters ought to be put on trial too. The jokes just have to be translated into girl’s perspective, is not their way in, they should have stretched their muscles a bit. Do they really think we are as gullible as the characters their lead ones revolve around? Has it been so easy to make someone laugh or con, everybody would be Hathaway.
With her looks so sharp and dunked herself into makeup and fake accent, there is a reason she is considered the best of our generation. For only Anne Hathaway without holding back, sticks to the silliest scenes of all. No matter how corny her line goes or how obviously monotonous the comebacks, she owns that fakeness like no one in the film. Rebel Wilson on the other hand who has also produced the film is as good as it gets when she body shames herself.
This is a strong asset, she criticizing her ownself even as an improv but then some little piece of hilarious note like such that goes well among the crowd, is rubbed down until you get tired of it. Over punching those same jokes, in fact an exact replica of a scene is recreated, just to get some cheap laughs. The warmth that Oz’s version captured through Michael Caine’s eyes is left untouched in here while the other hokums and twists and turns happily reiterated. The Hustle couldn’t hustle its way out of its own loopholes and pretentious political correctness, leave the laughs, it couldn’t even snatch a nod out of me.