I don’t remember much about the original, other than it being possibly mildly serviceable, truth be told I was talking with someone throughout the whole thing (don’t worry, we were in front of a TV). I remember it was somewhat of a softy Die Hard comedy clone though, so I thought maybe this sequel might be relevant to our niche. I can only come out the other side with a warning – enter a screening of Paul Blart: Mall Cop 2 and the reek of deathly silence will permeate the air, right throughout this desperate shit. There isn’t a solitary laugh to be found.
Blart (Kevin James) is invited to a security officer’s convention in Las Vegas. There, he uses his skills as a security professional to thwart a robbery by Neal McDonough. At once, product placement shouts loudest, as Blart is a guest at the Steve Wynn property. They make it obvious to the point of shaking you by the neck, also letting the viewers know that complimentary drinks are available (to certain patrons). The entire movie was filmed there, most of it, also taking advantage of a new Nevada tax credit. Obviously, it’s a cash in job and a severe one at that. All involved, the cast and producers, showed up with their hands out. They knew it was going to suck, they just thought it might turn a decent profit with the set up they schemed up.
This film is painfully unfunny. The title character is an awkward dickhead, seemingly intended to be a fat affable clutz. But I kept thinking, are they purposely trying to get me to dislike Blart? Everything about him is uncomfortable, before you get to the life force-sapping ‘jokes’. This guy is not a character even remotely in league with the late John Candy. Speaking of Candy, at times I thought such and such on the screen could’ve been played better by someone else, such as a leading executive in the movie being played by Dan Akroyd. The only thing of remote value in this movie is Neal McDonough. He has a look on his face throughout as if to say, Gawd, this shit sucks, but I’m going to just sit back and embrace the wreck anyway.
A completely and utterly numb fiasco, cynical use of property advertisement and tax breaks to shake a buck out of us.