I’ve got an easy litmus test for whether a movie’s going to be a sexist dud: How nuts-centric is it?
“Daddy’s Home” forgoes the classic “Ow, my balls” moment, but it does feature a literal, pants-down comparison of the cojones on its two leads (Will Ferrell and Mark Wahlberg). Three guesses whose are more perfect: the ones on Wahlberg’s motorcycle-riding tough guy, or Ferrell’s quick-to-cry beta male.
As Brad, Ferrell is a soft, reliable, nice guy who works for a smooth-jazz radio station. He’s happily married to Sarah (Linda Cardellini), whose two kids’ (Owen Vaccaro and Scarlett Estevez) favorite hobby is crayoning inventive ways for their stepfather to meet his demise.
When their dad, Sarah’s first husband Dusty (Wahlberg), breezes into town unannounced, all leather jacket and swagger, a natural competition arises between the two men for the kids’ and Sarah’s affections. And when I say natural, I mean within this stupid Hollywood conception of manhood.
Brad and Dusty go on a rampage of one-upmanship in the form of playhouse construction (“You can’t build a treehouse with a tampon, Brad!”), bedtime stories, extreme sports and retro lessons in playground fighting.
To be fair, Ferrell is almost always at least mildly funny, even when doing something as lame as skateboarding into a power line, but Wahlberg’s cowboy shtick just seems half-hearted. Hannibal Buress and Thomas Haden Church bring wry comic relief as sidekicks, but neither (especially Buress) really fits into this homage to outdated gender roles.