Commercially, Perry is a winner. Artistically and morally—well, that’s another matter. As filmmaking goes, Why Did I Get Married Too is a pretty big step down from both Tyler Perry’s I Can Do Bad All by Myself (2009) and Tyler Perry’s the Family That Preys (2008). This one is probably about on par with Tyler Perry’s Madea Goes to Jail (2009)—with slightly higher production values (evidenced by wrecking a Pontiac in Madea and a Porsche here). Here we appear to have Perry in the “Lifestyles of the Rich and Fatuous” mode popularized by Nancy Meyers. He’s got the sets and locations down, but he hasn’t learned to shoot everything like an Architectural Digest layout à la Meyers. This may actually be in Perry’s favor, but the barrage of poorly framed shots and awkward cuts are not. I know Perry can do better than this; I’ve seen it.
This is a sequel to Perry’s Why Did I Get Married? (2007), featuring the same couples who were together at the end of the first film. Sheila (Jill Scott) dumped cheating, abusive husband Mike (Richard T. Jones) for hunky Colorado sheriff Troy (Lamman Rucker) in the first film, so she’s married to Troy this round. It’s essentially more of the same trouble-and-strife of married life—with a lighter than usual dose of religion. Indeed, I think God only made it into the film once: when Jill surveyed the time-share beach house and enthused how all this beauty proved the existence of God. (I never knew God designed beach resorts.)
I’ve always been troubled by Perry’s depiction of domestic violence and I found a whiff of misogyny about the first Married film. It’s in full-flower here. The central problems with all four marriages in the film get dumped on the women. We have the rocky marriage based on the wife’s insane level of jealousy. There’s another that’s on less-than-firm ground because the wife is not exactly cheating, but is all a-dither over another man. The third couple is divorce-bound because the wife is incapable of communicating or seeking help for this problem. The fourth marriage strains under the weight of the husband being unemployed, because of the wife’s insistence that they move closer to her friends and mother. As near as I can tell, these marriages would be OK if it weren’t for the wives.
The film is, otherwise, pretty much the standard assortment of low comedy and high melodrama. The bulk of the latter is handed over to Janet Jackson in a performance that gets high marks for theatrics, if nothing else. I suppose it was inevitable in our post-Tiger Woods world that the golf club should be added to the Perry arsenal of womanly rage—and I won’t deny that Jackson swings a mean nine iron.
There are much more stupefying things about her character, but the discussion of them involves spoilers, so read no further if you haven’t seen the film and plan on it. Jackson is the uncommunicative wife, whose calm demeanor finally shatters—causing not just her driving range rage, but the inexplicable decision to deliver a mincingly gay stripper to husband Gavin’s (Malik Yoba) workplace. Why? I have no idea, since there’s been nothing—and is nothing—to suggest gayness about Gavin. Following this, she harasses Gavin into the parking lot, into his Porsche and straight into a fatal car crash. Her penalty? She gets an utterly ludicrous big scene (“Fix it! Fix it!”), writes a popular book on grieving and gets to “meet cute” with a hunky special-guest star in the last scene. What was Perry thinking? Approach with caution. Rated PG-13 for thematic material, including sexuality, language, drug references and some domestic violence.
As a non-US resident, I find the popularity of these films entirely mystifying.
I’ve never seen one advertised as playing here, and thus have never seen one myself.
I do not feel the need to rectify this situation.
I’ve never seen one advertised as playing here, and thus have never seen one myself.
I do not feel the need to rectify this situation
Well, you have a region-free player, don’t you? I’m sure I could arrange something… (And, no, I haven’t managed to watch State of Play yet.)
Well, you have a region-free player, don’t you? I’m sure I could arrange something… (And, no, I haven’t managed to watch State of Play yet.)
When you watch STATE OF PLAY, I’ll watch MADEA GOES TO JAIL.
When you watch STATE OF PLAY, I’ll watch MADEA GOES TO JAIL.
No, you need a more comprehensive dose than one movie. Maybe I could make you a nice compilation of key scenes from the Perry oeuvre. That sounds like a lot of trouble, though, especially since I don’t own any of them.
Maybe I could make you a nice compilation of key scenes from the Perry oeuvre.
Were you to put yourself through such a grody task, I would feel compelled to view the results.
Your TP reviews crack me up, even though this one wasn’t as hysterically harsh as some in the past. This movie was my first attempt at watching a TP movie. 26 minutes in, I had enough. The dialogue was grossly artificial. Maybe if TP focused more on directing and pulled himself out of starring in his films, he’d have a chance to grow…maybe. Blame largely goes to his minions for being satisfied with his sub-mediocre filmmaking and praising him at every turn. I think his characters and storytelling foster unfavorable and [from my circle of black friends] unrealistic stereotypes that I find offensive. If feeling this way makes me an “Uncle Tom,” then I gladly accept it because everything that Spike Lee said about the cat was dead on
Your TP reviews crack me up, even though this one wasn’t as hysterically harsh as some in the past.
Which is interesting because I disliked it more than most of the films. Most of the films have something in them I like. Here it’s limited to one shot (which is immediately ruined with a cut) and the scene with Lou Gossett, Jr. and Cicely Tyson. I think this one disturbed me too much with its misogyny and that appalling ending.
Maybe if TP focused more on directing and pulled himself out of starring in his films, he’d have a chance to grow…maybe.
Problem with this is that when he’s tried that, the films tend to make less money. Whatever else Perry is, he’s a businessman.
Blame largely goes to his minions for being satisfied with his sub-mediocre filmmaking and praising him at every turn.
You can start blaming some of the critical populace, too, for taking a “Perry knows his audience” stance and refusing to criticize the films on their actual merits.
Does he put his name in every title?
Does he put his name in every title?
On all of them but the first one (which he didn’t direct), yes, he does. I suppose if Fellini could do it several times and Ken Russell could do it once, he figures he can — though he’s more closely aligned with Bela Lugosi Meets a Brooklyn Gorilla. Actually, for his audience, it’s probably not unreasonable, since it’s the Perry brand name that sells the movies.