Liam Neesen and Pamela Anderson deliver a serviceable -- if remarkably belated -- entry into The Naked Gun dumb-comedy sweepstakes.
Because the series, which began in 1988, hasn't spawned a sequel since 1994, it's tempting to think a new edition might be pointless. Not quite.
If nothing else, Naked Gun’s 2025 version reminds us of the kind of comedy that swept through theaters, beginning when Airplane! took flight in 1980. Credit creators David Zucker, Jim Abrahams (now deceased), and Jerry Zucker, the team that started the ball rolling and which had nothing to do with this imitative successor.
Working from a screenplay by Dan Gregor and Doug Mand, director Akiva Schaffer adopts the joke-laden approach the material demands, piling on enough dumb gags to stock several comedies. If one joke doesn't make you laugh, hang on; another quickly will be nipping at its heels.
Neeson winks at his intensely focused action roles with his portrayal of Lt. Frank Drebin Jr., son of the original detective Drebin, who was played by the late (and irreplaceable) Leslie Nielsen. Neeson continues in the spirit of the original, which is to say he happily surrenders to the screenplay’s foolishness, layering his performance with faux gravitas.
For her part, Anderson strikes jokey femme fatale poses that peak with a funny impromptu nightclub performance of a ridiculously extended jazz vocal.
The rest of cast is used to meager effect. Paul Walter Hauser, as Frank's sidekick, and CCH Pounder, as the chief of Los Angeles' generically named Police Squad, don't have much to do. Danny Huston plays the villain, a tech mogul who provides an excuse to add jokes about highly automated electric cars.
Unfortunately, the trailer spoils the boldly absurd joke that opens the movie, but it can be fun listening to the characters take words at their most literal.
"Take a seat,'' says Drebin to Anderson's Beth. She does, dragging one out of the police station.
As if to squeeze every last drop out of the movie's nonstop jokiness, a stream of mostly clever gags are sprinkled throughout the end credits.
Bad comedies can be painful. I didn't feel that way about Naked Gun, but a question arises. Why did the movie's accumulation of gags leave me feeling less than blown away? My answer: Its irreverence needed better targets.
Unlike the earlier movies, which bit the hand that fed them by lampooning Hollywood's addiction to multiplex-filling formula, this one relies on fan service, nostalgia, and the hope that in era of smart devices, dumb humor can offer dopey relief.
No matter how audiences react to Naked Gun, few will accuse the movie of overstaying its welcome. The movie clocks in at a refreshing 85 minutes, almost a short by today's bloated standards.
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