After a relationship of ten years, which has produced two children and nearly erased their previously promiscuous lifestyle, nubile and lively couple Jay and Annie have settled into a life of complacency. When Annie sells off her increasingly popular blog for a good sum of money, the two decide to celebrate that evening by leaving the children to be babysat, and, hoping to spice up their otherwise droll life, decide to film a video of the two having sexual intercourse. Within no time, via the cloud sharing option on their iPads, the three-hour-long session travels around their close circle of friends and family. Panicked, they set about to stop the circulating tape before it becomes seen by every possible individual.
Before you read any more of my review for Sex Tape, I have to get this out of the way for my male friends: if you want to see Cameron Diaz bare her body, you do get very brief glimpses from behind (though I'd be willing to believe that computers and/or a body double were involved in a good portion of these), and even some shots of her breasts from the side. Notice that I said "brief," not lengthy. Don't buy into her touts on late-night talk shows of proclaiming that she goes full frontal or displays her entire figure.
Now that I've disclosed that little bit of banal information, let us proceed.
Even with trailers that didn't exactly wow me and a rather horrifying-looking score on the usually reliable Rotten Tomatoes, I really wanted to enjoy Sex Tape. I generally enjoy the work of most of the cast and crew, and its main on-screen couple seemed like they were enjoying each other's presence. At the end of the day though, this just isn't that good of a movie, and there are multiple reasons why it will most likely fade into obscurity in less than two months. First off, the picture's entire premise is oddly derivative of the 2000 sex comedy Road Trip, except lacking in the camaraderie department. As dumb as that picture was, it didn't have to rely solely upon two performers to carry a rather silly script, and fared well with having every actor and actress who was cast to do their best with the material given. Even worse, it feels like a less competent take on an older episode of The Simpsons titled "Natural Born Kissers," wherein Homer and Marge long to liven up their own private life behind closed doors. This also borrows small parts from Kevin Smith's hit-or-miss sex comedy Zack And Miri Make A Porno. True, Diaz and co-star Jason Segel are attempting to salvage something prudent from the weak script provided and turn it into something watchable, but one can't make chicken salad from chicken shit in every case.
Secondly, the characters just flounder about like idiots once this home video makes its way around the assorted iPads they are trying to confiscate. There are repeated incidents of when secondary characters (including CHILDREN) tell them how this could have been avoided or remedied, such as calling a number or sending an e-mail. Naturally, they have forsaken the route of common sense and just choose to get into wacky predicaments while driving around from home to home. During this tenure, and once the plot described above kicks into gear, you begin to dislike Cameron Diaz's character. She's erratic, overreacting, and just kind of bland when she isn't yelling about the absurdity of the situation. Her husband Jason Segel is…..well, he's playing Jason Segel. He yells at the top of his lungs quite a bit, gets hurt numerous times, shows off his naughty bits when he can, and tries to display a softer, kinder side that feels incredibly phoned in. This wouldn't be such a problem if they didn't set up the two to be such a likable, and at times realistic couple. It just descends into standard fare mediocrity, and by the end (no spoilers), you just kind of wonder what the point of the whole scenario was. Speaking of having no point, Rob Lowe might be the only memorable character or object in the entire flick, even if his side plot has no resolution whatsoever. Yes, it is ironic that he appears in a picture about a sex "scandal," but he seems like he's having a good laugh playing a closet cocaine addict who happens to share an affinity for thrash metal giants Slayer and deceased gangster rapper Eazy E. He does lift the film off of the ground, even if just a tad. But good lord, the sequence at his house just goes on for what feels like an eternity, dragging its feet at a sluggish pace, and is bolstered by some wonderfully stupid comedy based around animal cruelty that makes the Farrelly Brothers' ideas look subtle. Oh joy.
Finally, I thought it to be impossible, but Sex Tape somehow manages to shill Apple products more than Apple themselves could ever do. Even after several weeks have gone by, I still can't get the bad taste of Transformers: Age of Extinction out of my mouth. To Michael Bay's credit, however, his pushing of products wasn't this in-your-face as it is here. The insistence of pushing a product down your throat is bolstered by the perseverance that you absolutely must own this electronic device, and you should know how to use every bonus that comes with it. All that was missing was an actor or actress looking directly at the camera, smiling, and saying "Hey folks, I love my iPad, and so should you." Wretched and shameless.
Sex Tape just can't seem to get it up or keep it up (I was trying to refrain from using sex-related puns, but they're just too easy to make), nor does it really pack enough to secure a spot in your long-term memory. It just simply exists, and that might be its biggest crime. There was an abundance of potential to make something wholly impressive, especially given the records of director Jake Kasdan (Walk Hard), writer Nicholas Stoller (Get Him To The Greek), and its main cast themselves, but it just kind of flops on the floor like a fish out of water. I can't say that I laughed as much as the three people several rows in front of me did (I'm still bewildered that one of them brought a small baby into a movie such as this), but then again, I think I only emitted a mere one or two genuine chuckles. Unfortunately, that just isn't enough for me to recommend a film like this to anybody.
That is, unless you have a desire to see Jason Segel's posterior numerous times. And if you're that eager for such a thing, go rent, buy, or download Forgetting Sarah Marshall instead.
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