Adam (John Cusack), Lou (Rob Corddry), and Nick (Craig Robinson), three old pals who’ve lost touch over the years, try to reconnect by heading to a ski resort they frequented in their younger days, Adam’s nephew Jacob (Clark Duke) in tow. Their first night there they climb into a hot tub and get wasted, and wake up the next morning to find themselves shot back in time to 1986--to the very weekend they’d last visited the resort.

Hoping to keep the time continuum from going haywire--and Jacob from being erased from existence--they attempt to recreate the events of that original weekend. But once they realize just how their lives turned out, making a few changes doesn’t seem like such a bad idea.

CRITIQUE

You have to love a movie that spells it all out for in the title. Just like with Snakes on a Plane, you pretty much know what you’re getting with a movie titled Hot Tub Time Machine. No mistaking this movie for anything else. Wouldn’t it be great if all movie titles were this forthcoming? Imagine if I Know Who Killed Me had been titled Watch a Stoned Girl Kill Her Career, or if Avatar had been The Estate of Poul Anderson Should Sue. With this flick, you can hear the title and pretty much know right away whether or not it’s for you. And if you know it’s for you, you can expect a pretty good time. Much like The Hangover, this movie’s hilarity has been somewhat overstated, but it’s still pretty damned funny.

As pretty damned funny as it is, though, Hot Tub Time Machine will probably be more appreciated by people roughly my age. If you were still in school back in the day when Cusack was starring in stuff like Better Off Dead, you’ll likely glom on to the vibe this movie has far more quickly than someone who only knows him from stuff like 2012 or Must Love Dogs.

For example, when the guys first run into the commie-hating ski freak who becomes the de facto villain of the story, it helps to understand that such a tool was once the de facto villain of numerous ‘80s comedies (which were watched by people for my generation only for the gratuitous female nudity); if you think the movie’s just ripping off that similarly themed South Park episode, you’re missing the point.

Much of the fun I got out of Hot Tub Time Machine was watching it take all of these stupid staples of lame ‘80s flicks and mash them up, then point out how stupid they were/are while simultaneously putting them to use. This movie’s plot machinery revolves around a hot tub capable of tossing its occupants back through time, but it offers no explanation as to exactly how it works (and I’d love for someone to tell what the hell that squirrel has to do with anything).

Chevy Chase (who’s currently enjoying one hell of a career comeback) turns up as a repairman who spouts cryptic nonsense about all of this machinery, none of which makes the least bit of sense or is even really necessary. But this sort of story has always featured this sort of character, only here the other characters are constantly pointing out what an ass he is for not just telling them exactly what they need to know.

Unlike a lot of the current glut of crass, tasteless comedies (too many of which think Crass plus Tasteless automatically equals Funny, which simply isn’t the case [ever seen Waiting?]), Hot Tub Time Machine doesn’t really try to temper its vulgarity with heart. Yeah, it does have its serious moments (somewhat unfortunately, but I’m getting ahead of myself), but it never really becomes cloying (unlike most of the Judd Apatow-guided flicks).

 There’s an undiluted meanness to this movie, which is a good (and when dealing with guys of this type, more or less true) thing. More than a little blood is spilled, hand soap is used to represent a certain bodily fluid that bears a marked resemblance to hand soap (this comes as the punchline to a very cruel, very funny joke), and a running gag involves everyone waiting to see exactly how the resort’s bellhop (played by Crispin Glover, whose presence in the movie was inevitable [although it would have been even cooler had the filmmakers also found a spot for Jeffrey Weissman]) loses his right arm. And Corddry’s character is an unmitigated bastard, almost impossible to like (although the cruelest thing his character does is also by far the funniest thing he does).

But you have to go balls-out in this sort of movie, and this one does (both figuratively and literally); playing it namby-pamby is a disservice to the people who make this sort of thing profitable. The movie’s also speedy as hell, barreling from one gag or joke to the next and blowing past its logic flaws (including one so big it probably has its own gravitational pull) and anachronisms. And it never outstays its welcome, running just as long as it should; there’s no flab here, which is surprising and welcome. (Just so you’ll know, there’s a surprise appearance by an actor who spent the better part of the ‘80s playing guys audiences couldn’t wait to see get what was coming. I won’t reveal who it is, but I will say that the shot establishing his presence was for me the single funniest moment in the movie.)   

Unfortunately, the movie starts to sputter some as it races toward the climax. It stops being a gentle savaging of a cookie-cutter ‘80s comedy and more or less becomes one. The earnestness of the movies being guyed here gives way to actual earnestness. And the ultimate outcome of the story (which was ruined by every single one of the movie’s commercials and trailers) is more mawkish than it needs to be. Sure, it’s still a little disreputable, but it’s far more serious and sentimental than need be (although the end credits make up for this somewhat).

Two versions of the movie are included on this disc--the original theatrical version and an unrated cut that runs about two minutes longer. This longer version doesn’t represent any sort of director’s or preferred cut on the part of director Steve Pink (who co-wrote Grosse Pointe Blank and High Fidelity, Cusack’s two best movies), but is just an excuse to throw back in a little more vulgarity and female nudity (no complaints here).

THE VIDEO

The 1.85:1/1080p transfer--encoded with AVC onto a 50GB disc--offers a nice capture of the movie’s cinematography, which is far slicker than I was expecting. Interiors are dark and warm, nighttime exteriors feature inky blacks, and their daylight counterparts are highlighted by period colors that are impressively gaudy.

The image is generally smooth and nicely detailed, although some shots can get a little soft, and one shot (a close-up of Cusack as he stands in his old girlfriend’s room) inexplicably explodes with noise; the whipping pans in the opening titles also give the encode fits, at times breaking down into a mess of jagged lines. But overall this is a very solid transfer, putting to shame the half-assed efforts most comedies of this ilk receive.

THE AUDIO

The movie’s sound design is more comedy-standard, but this disc’s DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 track still offers a nice experience. The mix favors the front channels, saving surround action for some mild ambiance and crowd noises, as well as some good music bleed. Dialogue generally sounds good, although some hushed lines (a Cusack trademark) get buried.

There’s a healthy amount of strong bass action, both in the music and the sting effects used to accent the jokes. The music itself--a wide range of ‘80s hits, including Poison, Mötley Crüe, Public Enemy, Men Without Hats, and Scritti Politti (which combined to make me feel really old)--sounds great (and loud), remixed to perfection.

A French Dolby Digital 5.1 track is also included. English SDH and Spanish subtitles are included.

THE EXTRAS

What the packaging lists as a collection of deleted scenes (12 minutes, HD) is actually a mixture of deleted scenes, extended scenes, and alternate takes, many of which are rather funny.

Four theatrical promotional spots (6 minutes, HD) highlight the cast, the costumes, Chase, and Glover.

The movie’s theatrical trailer, also presented in high-def, is also included.  

A second disc contains a digital copy of the movie.

FINAL THOUGHTS