Hot Tub Time Machine (2010) ***1/2

As Hot Tub Time Machine opens we see Lou (Rob Corddry) slide is 1979 Trans Am into his garage, shut the door, down a little vodka, a little Russian energy drink and hit the gas. Of course none of these things can go together without dire circumstances, but what better way to go, eh? Lou’s moment of stupidity is interpreted by his friends (John Cusack and Craig Robinson) as a suicide attempt and they decide to cheer old Lou up by taking him to the ski resort they partied at during their ‘80’s hey day. Sadly, the whole area seems to have been a victim of the ‘00’s bust and the once swinging resort is now a dump. Our quartet, with the addition of Cusack’s character’s nephew Jacob (Clarke Duke), end up in the hot tub, where hilarity, drunkenness, and hallucinations ensue. The thing is that when the guys wake up the following morning they have returned to one wile weekend in 1986 that seems to be the hinge of their lives.

We should have expected and onslaught of films that will ride on the coat tails of The Hangover. This is Hollywood we’re talking about. If there’s a nickel to be squeezed from a genre then the studio will have a juicer handy. Hot Tub Time Machine, though not as funny as The Hangover, is still a funnier film than most of the schlock appearing on screens across the country. It’s kind of like an excessively vulgar Back to the Future, which is ironic since Crispin Glover is in this movie, too. This is a raunchy, dirty comedy; the kind kids sneak downstairs to watch on HBO at night.

The key to Hot Tub Time Machine is the characters. John Cusack plays his usual role that he has become the master of, a sort of modern day monk throwing out philosophical ideas while eating from a bag of shrooms. Robinson plays the guy that is devoted to his wife even at the expense of his dream. Duke is the nerd playing video games in the basement. It’s Corddry who plays the guy we all know. The guy with the stupid ideas. The guy that is turned to 11 all the time. He’s loud. He’s obnoxious. Everyone knows the character. It’s like there’s a factory producing this guy and they’re deliver to strategic points so that everyone gets their own fair share of bullshit. Corddry succeeds at becoming that pain in the ass.