co-stars Jason Sudeikis and Jennifer Aniston team up again as reluctant drug mules in We're the Millers
, but this comedy's eagerness to please functions as a slow poison, draining The Millers
of its vitality by rendering its characterization uneven, its potential undeveloped, and its plot predictable and stupid. Sudeikis can't find a center amid the script's erratic tonal whims, while Aniston, so thrillingly sexy as a man-eating dentist in Bosses
, disappointingly reverts to America's Sweetheart: Stripper Edition. Sudeikis plays David, a small-time Denver dope peddler who’s not going to let marriage or parenthood harsh his life-- nor will he let anyone forget it. (This is how you know he'll end up a hubby and daddy later in the film.) When some street punks steal David’s stash and cash, he's kidnapped and forced by his own horrible boss (Ed Helms in his sunny douchebag persona) to drive across the border and bring back "a smidge and a half" of product from Mexico. He recruits his lap-dancing neighbor Rose (Aniston), abandoned teenager Kenny (Will Poulter), and underage runaway Casey (Emma Roberts) to pose as the Millers, his hunky-dory family. David rents an RV sumptuous enough to be the first floor of Will Smith's trailer, and it's off to the cartel compound they go. The film earns its R rating with quick shots of misshapen male genitalia and an extended kissing gag where Kenny makes out with both his fake sister and his fake mother, building to a true uproar.