It’s almost tantamount to false advertising to describe “The Parenting” as a horror comedy. It’s not just that the new Max original film is neither funny nor scary, but rather that it evinces such limited instinct in eliciting fear or laughter from an audience. Everything from the elevator-pitch premise — “Meet the Parents” crossed with “The Evil Dead” (or “The Exorcist,” or any other demonic possession film) — to the palpable lack of on-screen energy from an ensemble of veteran performers screams of a half-assed stab at content creation. It’s never a great sign when you wish that a movie was worse just so that it would be more interesting.
Rohan (Nik Dodani, Netflix’s “Atypical”) plans to propose to his boyfriend Josh (Brandon Flynn, Netflix’s “13 Reasons Why”) at a weekend getaway with their respective parents at a country home rental. Tensions quickly run high when the families’ disparate personalities clash. (If you can believe it, Rohan’s parents are cold and distant while Josh’s are loose-lipped and easygoing.) The previously steady couple experiences friction because of the resulting stress, but things take a more hellish turn when everyone discovers the house is haunted by a demon looking for a new host.
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If that summarizing paragraph reads generic or boring, then it’s a fairly accurate reflection of the work itself. It doesn’t help matters that the characters are one-note personalities that range from bland to actively irritating. Edie Falco and Brian Cox play Rohan’s adoptive parents Sharon and Frank; the former is demanding and the latter is reserved. Josh’s parents, Liddy and Cliff, are played by Lisa Kudrow and Dean Norris; Kudrow delivers yet another spin on her patented kooky on-screen persona while Norris basically smiles his way through the movie.
Even as these characters “develop” (more accurately, “slightly soften” or “begin to resemble regular human behavior”) over time, they do so erratically and it’s hardly convincing. Ironically, the actors’ generally sleepy performances are appropriate given the vagueness of their roles. Dodani and Flynn’s characters are similarly flavorless, and the actors exhibit zero chemistry together, but it barely matters because “The Parenting” doesn’t require they carry much of a dramatic load. They’re mostly there to create space for the more famous players.
Monster makeup and fake vomit factor heavily into the horror side of “The Parenting.” Practical effects are welcome in contemporary films because, at the very least, it demonstrates an appreciation for cinema’s handmade traditions on behalf of the production. In this film, however, they don’t make much of an impression even when you can see the labor behind it. When Frank becomes possessed, he turns into a Linda Blair-esque creation, complete with a spinning head and raspy voice. It theoretically should be fun to see Brian Cox in full demon makeup spewing bile or insults; instead, it feels like imitation entertainment, akin to a camp counselor desperately trying to amuse bored kids.
With that said, the overall dearth of humor is a more damning sin. I chuckled once watching Kudrow cautiously adjust a lamp as the group barricades a door, but otherwise the comedy is limited to wacky line deliveries, unimaginative profanity, and bad sight gags. Comedy is subjective, so maybe someone will enjoy a demon dog’s bugged-out eyes after Cliff sticks a finger up its ass, which was preceded by Norris announcing, “I’m gonna stick my finger up its ass!”, or the sight of a naked, delirious Cox demanding people stare at his erection. Later, during a climactic battle, he triumphantly insists his dick is big. This is also supposed to be funny.
Lowbrow humor perfectly fits this kind of movie, but “The Parenting” splits the difference in the worst way by projecting respectability while only occasionally indulging in bawdy comedy, like a suburban parent making slightly off-color jokes at the block party after one too many spritzers. Shot and directed like a sitcom episode, “The Parenting” runs on (good, awkward, creepy) vibes, which is probably why Parker Posey, who plays the home’s “mysterious” owner and exposition dispenser, injects energy into the film just by being her off-kilter self. (Meanwhile, the less said about Vivian Bang’s superfluous, obnoxious character Sara, who crashes the affair for the flimsiest of reasons, the better.)
Unfortunately, “The Parenting” isn’t a hangout movie where tone can reign supreme. Instead, it calls for something more, whether that’s a plot that compels on its own merits instead of coasting on 1980s nostalgia, or actual jokes instead of comedically-inflected banter. The ostensibly heartfelt scenes where characters apologize for their behavior or stand up for themselves never display an ounce of emotional potency because no one resembles a real person.
The film’s utterly nondescript nature suggests a cynical interpretation for its existence: a company of actors from frequently-streamed past and present TV shows (“Breaking Bad,” “Friends,” “Succession,” “The Sopranos,” “The White Lotus,” etc.) together on screen was enough to satisfy some media executive’s content algorithm. “Good enough” effectively becomes the creative modus operandi once that condition is met. After all, who needs a sturdy filmic infrastructure when Phoebe Buffay and Carmela Soprano are sharing a bottle of wine together for a couple scenes?
Grade: C-
“The Parenting” is now streaming on Max.
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