In the 1996 episode of The Simpsons entitled "Homerpalooza," Abe Simpson tells a teenage Homer, "I used to be with 'it,' but then they changed what 'it' was. Now what I'm with isn't 'it' anymore and what's 'it' seems weird and scary. It'll happen to you!" These prolific words essentially sum up Bill Burr's lifeless directorial debut, Old Dads.
The thinly-constructed Netflix R-rated comedy attempts to take aim at both the easily triggered liberals who think they are moving society forward and those who cling to the glory days of the past. It misses both targets.
In the eyes of Jack (Burr), a father who had his first child at the age of 47 and is now expecting his second at 51, the world has become too soft. Rather than telling a child to "put some dirt on it" when they scrape their knee playing, everyone is worried about disinfecting it before an infection occurs. Life was simpler in the '80s, when Jack and his best friends, Connor (Bobby Cannavale) and Mike (Bokeem Woodbine), could use derogatory language about women freely to motivate each other at the gym.
Now Jack, Connor and Mike find themselves in a world changing faster than they can keep up with. One where ancestry websites have white people thinking they are minorities because they're 3 percent Sri Lankan, a preschool principal (Rachael Harris) holds immense power over a child's educational career path, and their millennial boss, Aspen Bell (Miles Robbins), thinks anyone born before 1988 is well past their prime.
The crux of the film finds the trio of dads struggling to adjust to a new boss, demanding wives and, in the case of Mike, the fears of facing fatherhood at a later stage in life. Not that the film cares much for the characters — they're merely loosely drawn vessels for Burr to riff on the failings of a generation that feels compelled to share every thought they have on the internet for the world to see.
What makes Old Dads so frustrating is that Burr's film has several salient points to make. There are some solid comedic jabs at progressive liberals who think they are more evolved than previous generations, but still haven't figured out how to deal with issues of race and gender in a way that truly moves the needle forward. As Jack astutely notes, there's a lot of performative actions, especially from those who feel the need to comment on things that don't impact them, just to make it look like they are on the perceived right side of history.
Unfortunately, Burr never fully reckons with his generation's reluctance to let go of the past or meet millennials halfway. The film spends so much time letting the dads be blissfully out of touch, and then just shrugs it off with a "what can you do, they are old" kind of malaise. Yhe lack of investment in fleshing out the characters makes the men's evolution feel stunted at best. By the time the men come to understand what is most important in life — in a strip club no less — it's far too late to support the emotional beats Burr builds towards.
As a director, Burr displays discomfort in letting any meaningful moment breathe. Similar to how a person who's uncomfortable with silence needs to make noise, the comedian-turned-filmmaker breaks up any semblance of a meaningful moment with nonsensical gags. This is especially noticeable whenever the men interact with any of the poorly-written female characters, who range from demanding to shrill to nondescript.
All of this makes Old Dads feel woefully out of step with the time it's critiquing. Considering that films such as Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery and Get Out offered scathing commentary on modern liberals who view themselves as "disruptors" or progressives while using their privilege to adhere to the status quo, its missteps feel even more glaring.
Instead of having something truly insightful to say, Old Dads is nothing more than an old man shaking his fist at the clouds.
(Netflix)The thinly-constructed Netflix R-rated comedy attempts to take aim at both the easily triggered liberals who think they are moving society forward and those who cling to the glory days of the past. It misses both targets.
In the eyes of Jack (Burr), a father who had his first child at the age of 47 and is now expecting his second at 51, the world has become too soft. Rather than telling a child to "put some dirt on it" when they scrape their knee playing, everyone is worried about disinfecting it before an infection occurs. Life was simpler in the '80s, when Jack and his best friends, Connor (Bobby Cannavale) and Mike (Bokeem Woodbine), could use derogatory language about women freely to motivate each other at the gym.
Now Jack, Connor and Mike find themselves in a world changing faster than they can keep up with. One where ancestry websites have white people thinking they are minorities because they're 3 percent Sri Lankan, a preschool principal (Rachael Harris) holds immense power over a child's educational career path, and their millennial boss, Aspen Bell (Miles Robbins), thinks anyone born before 1988 is well past their prime.
The crux of the film finds the trio of dads struggling to adjust to a new boss, demanding wives and, in the case of Mike, the fears of facing fatherhood at a later stage in life. Not that the film cares much for the characters — they're merely loosely drawn vessels for Burr to riff on the failings of a generation that feels compelled to share every thought they have on the internet for the world to see.
What makes Old Dads so frustrating is that Burr's film has several salient points to make. There are some solid comedic jabs at progressive liberals who think they are more evolved than previous generations, but still haven't figured out how to deal with issues of race and gender in a way that truly moves the needle forward. As Jack astutely notes, there's a lot of performative actions, especially from those who feel the need to comment on things that don't impact them, just to make it look like they are on the perceived right side of history.
Unfortunately, Burr never fully reckons with his generation's reluctance to let go of the past or meet millennials halfway. The film spends so much time letting the dads be blissfully out of touch, and then just shrugs it off with a "what can you do, they are old" kind of malaise. Yhe lack of investment in fleshing out the characters makes the men's evolution feel stunted at best. By the time the men come to understand what is most important in life — in a strip club no less — it's far too late to support the emotional beats Burr builds towards.
As a director, Burr displays discomfort in letting any meaningful moment breathe. Similar to how a person who's uncomfortable with silence needs to make noise, the comedian-turned-filmmaker breaks up any semblance of a meaningful moment with nonsensical gags. This is especially noticeable whenever the men interact with any of the poorly-written female characters, who range from demanding to shrill to nondescript.
All of this makes Old Dads feel woefully out of step with the time it's critiquing. Considering that films such as Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery and Get Out offered scathing commentary on modern liberals who view themselves as "disruptors" or progressives while using their privilege to adhere to the status quo, its missteps feel even more glaring.
Instead of having something truly insightful to say, Old Dads is nothing more than an old man shaking his fist at the clouds.