On an artistic level the film's first problem is that it doesn't know who it wants to be about. It can't be about Max himself because he's essentially a walking human tragedy in clown's clothing. So it gives him two friends, one who thinks he is being taken to his own bachelor party weekend but is actually being dragged along so Max can hopefully add to his collection of deformed sex experiments. He's had a deaf girl under his belt, now he wants a midget. The other guy is too smart for his own good, would rather play Xbox than breathe, talks in a sickening, condescending way that no one but he could ever mistake as clever and hates women. His best line at the bar is to tell a girl that if she doesn't get away from him he will gut her. That he hooks up with a stripper who disgusts him but matches his insults is I guess what passes for sweetness in Max's world.
Until this point the film is just a stupid, shallow unfunny comedy about some uniformly unlikable guys trying to live an Animal House fantasy life. Then the film slips into complete degradation as Tucker and a girl he picked up at a bar have a serious case of the poo-poos after his beer is spiked. I won't describe what follows other than to say that when I woke up today I was prepared to see any number of different things. I man spilling his liquid excrement atop a hotel lobby floor was not one of then.
Tucker Max, I suspect, is the kind of guy who gets off simply by having a medium for him to write about himself, which is his only subject. At the top of his website he introduces himself as an a**hole and I don't doubt for one second that he is. However, as played by Matt Czuchry he's nothing short of a despicable slimeball who no self-respecting woman would ever be caught dead with.
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