I would have loved to be present at the meeting when the Hollywood producer pitched The Other Guys to his boss.
Producer: “So here’s what I’m thinking, Frank. We take two beloved action stars The Rock and Samuel L Jackson…”
Producer: “And we put them together in a buddy cop movie.”
Frank: “Cha-ching, baby! We’ll make a fortu-“
Producer: “Then they die twenty minutes in and are replaced by the guy who ruined the Planet of the Apes remake and an aging comedian who is about as funny as a Nazi concentration camp.”
I’m no stranger to insanity. Every day I get out of the shower and wear my towel over one shoulder because I like to pretend I’m a Roman senator, but even I wouldn’t greenlight this. The Other Guys is a horrible movie because it lets you glimpse biblical levels of awesomeness and then violently rips it away from you, stubbornly refusing to be the movie you want it to be.