Idiots is billed as a return to the raunchy bro comedies of the 2000s like Pineapple Express and The Hangover and about halfway through there is a visual gag involving bodily functions that is so revolting, so unexpected and so genius that it comes close to them. For a moment, I was transported back to the mix of delight and disgust I felt upon watching a 90s Farrelly Brothers movie when I was far too young: How is this allowed?
Described as an “earnest-dipshits-on-the-road screwball comedy” by director Macon Blair (I Don’t Feel at Home in This World Anymore, The Toxic Avenger), this R-rated indie comedy can’t entirely deliver on that enticingly deranged promise, but it has enough testosterone-fueled transgression to make its runtime breeze by. Dave Franco plays Mark, a doofus with a neck tattoo who expresses affection for his fellow man by slapping them on the jowls. When he is invited to vacate his job at a call center – which he has been coasting through by playing gory video games and sneaking shots of whiskey at his desk – he teams up with Davis (O’Shea Jackson Jr) for a dodgy under-the-table job involving transporting wayward teens to rehab. Their first charge is Sheridan (Mason Thames), a moody influencer who has made a name for himself by playing cruel stunts on members of the public like an off-brand Jake Paul. Like Harold & Kumar before it, the road trip is an obvious but effective ruse for Idiots’s freeform, THC-addled approach to storytelling which finds the trio jumping from country diner to crummy motel to a Slavic granny’s living room as Sheridan attempts to derail his passage to rehab.
