If awards were given out for Success in Product Placement, Daddy's Home would take home the gold. Sixty seconds in, the filmmakers announce the first entry on their list of pos-mens (or "positive mentions," per 30 Rock). An automobile, mentioned by make and model, drives its shiny gold body across the screen. With that establishing shot of commercially canned sunshine, the producers target their demographic: middle-aged, straight, white male suburbanites. Will Ferrell, in full naif Elf mode, is the everyman suffering from anxiety about his diminished virility and potency, both personal and professional. In this artificial landscape — the set and costume designs look repurposed and weary — the act of procreation, a man's erect and ballsy powers, is the only measure of his worth. Mark Wahlberg plays Ferrell's nemesis by sleep-acting through a collage of bad-boy clichés from every movie derivatively inspired by The Wild One (1953). He sports a leather-jacket, drives a motorcycle and behaves like a wound-up automaton set to kill. James Marsden took on a similar role earlier this year in The D Train, but his portrayal of an aging, sad-eyed stud was affecting and humane. With stunts and gags that appear to be rejects from the cutting room floor of the Jackass series, there is nothing new to be learned from this second pairing of Ferrell and Wahlberg. (Remember The Other Guys from 2010? Didn't think so.) Had the lead roles been reversed, this might have worked as a comedy, but that would have required a certain level of imagination and engagement. Who needs either when you're driving a brand new car all the way to the bank?
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