“Wild Hogs”

Directed by Walt Becker

Starring: Tim Allen, John Travolta, Martin Lawrence, William H. Macy, Ray Liotta, Marisa Tomei

Advertisement

Rated PG-13

Run time 99 minutes

The worst thing about director Walt Becker’s homophobic, unfunny and stupid mid-life crisis road trip comedy is that its stars alone ensure “Wild Hogs”will earn huge profits at the box office.

The film is just brainless enough- and contains enough motorcycle riding mishaps and crotch injuries- to get families out in droves to soak up a string of predictable jokes, recycled plot conventions and underdeveloped characters. The time between New Year’s and summer has always been a dumping ground for atrociously bad cinema, but “Wild Hogs” ranks high among the worst of the lot.

Like an abominable mix of better films such as “City Slickers,” “Easy Rider,” “Lost in America” and “Three Amigos,” “Wild Hogs” centers around four middle-aged suburbanites out to reclaim their masculinity while bonding over a cross-country motorcycle jaunt from Cincinnati to the west coast.

Doug (Tim Allen) is fed up with his buttoned down suburban lifestyle and longs for his glory days of partying with his buddies. These faithful compadres include Bobby (Martin Lawrence), a downtrodden househusband, and painfully shy computer geek Dudley (William H. Macy). The trio’s friend Woody (John Travolta), who has just lost his fortune and his trophy wife, suggests that the quartet take a motorcycling road trip out west.

This premise itself is dumb enough, but the ensuing plot includes a cheesed-off motorcycle gang leader (Ray Liotta), a sassy highway patrolman (John McGinley) who mistakes Travolta and company for gay bikers, a small town diner owner (Marisa Tomei) and Peter Fonda in a role that would make his “Easy Rider” character cry.

Advertisement*

In a film filled with lifeless characters, insipid jokes and a recycled story line, the only remote bright spot is Macy, who comes off as sympathetic and endearing instead of patronizing and imbecilic.

In short, none of the comedy in “Wild Hogs” works. More often than not, the film is laughing uproariously at its pathetic middle-aged stars rather than with them. While Allen and Lawrence might be used to this kind of colossal cinematic failure, it’s a shame Becker had to drag the likes of Macy, McGinley, Steven Tobolowsky and Kyle Gass into the mire.

Sadder still is the fact “Hogs” was penned by the usually funny Brad Copeland. Copeland, who made a name for himself writing intelligent and hilarious scripts for television series such as “My Name is Earl,” “Arrested Development” and “Scrubs,” seems to have suffered a lobotomy before scribbling down the script for this waste of film.

“Wild Hogs” is ultimately not fit for viewing, but the draw of Travolta and Allen in tepid, formulaic, family friendly tripe is sure to mean everyone involved in this terrible film will ride off into the sunset with huge bags of cash under each arm.