AS THEY say, “It ain’t over till the fat lady sings.” Well, in John Whitesell’s “Big Mommas: Like Father, Like Son,” the second sequel of the 2000 hit comedy, it looks like Big Momma aka FBI agent Malcolm Turner (Martin Lawrence) and 17-year-old Charmaine aka Trent (Brandon T. Jackson), have turned to music to give the franchise’s dwindling comedic prospects a boost.
With his wife out of town, Malcolm is left guarding the domestic front to ward off gun-wielding bad guys and steer his hip-hop-loving teenage son Trent’s way into college. But, when Trent witnesses a murder, the wacky father-and-son team is forced to go undercover at an all-girls performing arts school—in attention-calling fat-female suits! If you want to go incognito, this is definitely not what you should do!
In school, Charmaine is bigger and more awkward than most girls, but it doesn’t take long before she blends in and gets herself invited to the popular (but clueless) girls’ lair—because she “knows” what women want, and she tells them what they want to hear! —So much for women empowerment.
Eye-opener
The experience becomes an eye-opener for Trent and inspires him to tap into his sensitive side. Charmaine manages to get him a date with the lovely singer-pianist, Haley (Jessica Lucas), who sees through Trent’s shallow exterior—but not through Charmaine’s latex-heavy camouflage!
Inexplicably, while her classmates wince at Charmaine’s girth, none of them seems to find her odd ways and gruff manner suspicious. Where have these arts and drama students’ trained eye and keen observational skills gone?
Big Momma has her own “inconveniences” to deal with, not the least of which are the far-from-subtle advances of the school’s goofy utility man, Kurtis (Faizon Love), who doesn’t hide his fondness for plus-size women.
“Big Mommas’” fat-suit novelty wears off fast in the movie’s first act, and the comedy franchise’s third instalment is further weighed down by moribund racial gags and cultural clichés.
In between Malcolm and Trent’s wacky misadventures (before the requisite cat-and-mouse scenes with their sneeringly predictable pursuers), they get to shake their ample plasticine-padded derrieres to show off the movie’s catchy mash-ups and radio-friendly tunes. But, what does that say about a comedy flick when it relies on its music more than its humor?