Dysfunctional family comedies have always had an anchor in cinema. They’re practically comfort food because almost everyone has some kind of dysfunction somewhere in the family tree. Maybe it’s an eccentric uncle, an odd cousin, or a grandparent who makes every holiday unforgettable for all the wrong reasons. Those little pockets of chaos make these movies relatable because, at the end of the day, we’re all at least a little kooky. This is why we love revisiting the Griswolds and Fockers, why the road trip in Little Miss Sunshine works, or why we’d even entertain the possibility that it is Cheaper By The Dozen.
Little Brother is a bit of a mixed bag because its central dynamic is exaggerated to fit two wildly different comedic styles that never quite come together. The film stars John Cena and Eric Andre, with Cena clearly serving as the headliner. No offense to Eric Andre fans, but John Cena is the bigger movie star. Cena bankrolls theatrical comedies. Eric Andre bankrolls Adult Swim programming. That’s a little reductive, I know. Andre did have Bad Trip on Netflix, but that movie was built entirely around his comedic sensibilities because it was his project. Here, he’s relegated to comic relief.
Cena plays a man with what most people would consider an ideal life. He’s married to Michelle Monaghan’s character, has kids, a successful career, and lives comfortably. Yet he’s somehow consumed by insecurity because his older brother, played by Christopher Meloni, is even more successful. He is filming a reality series for the specific purpose of one upping his brother at something. That’s where the movie starts losing me.
John Cena is built like he could pick up a Mini Cooper and throw it across a parking lot. Asking the audience to believe he’s intimidated by Christopher Meloni because his brother has a bigger house and a better paycheck just never lands. If I were casting this, I’d have gone completely against type. Someone like Jim Parsons would have made the contrast funnier and made Cena’s insecurity feel genuinely irrational instead of simply unbelievable.
The title comes from another piece of Cena’s past. As a kid, he joined a Big Brother program and was paired with Eric Andre’s character, who took the “little brother” title very literally. Years later, he suddenly reappears hoping to reconnect and maybe help Cena… or maybe just help himself.
Eric Andre’s comedy usually thrives on discomfort and controlled chaos, occupying a similar space to what Tim Robinson has mastered over the past few years. Honestly, I have no idea why Hollywood hasn’t paired those two together yet. Eric Andre and Tim Robinson feel like a perfect comedic match, whether it’s a television series or a feature film, and somehow it still hasn’t happened. Instead, Little Brother gives Andre a watered down version of his usual act. His big moments involve predictable physical comedy, trying to figure out how to pee in a car he’s not allowed to leave, or an extended conversation with Michelle Monaghan about tossing salads. It’s less shocking than awkward, and it makes Monaghan’s character seem strangely fascinated by someone who is obviously an idiot. The joke never really evolves beyond its setup.
That’s the biggest problem with the movie. It doesn’t really serve either of its stars. John Cena has repeatedly shown he’ll commit completely to a joke, whether it’s the infamous naked keg stand in Blockers or his fearless supporting role in Trainwreck. He’s game for just about anything. Here, though, he’s reduced to playing the straight man. Meanwhile, Eric Andre has to tone down everything that makes Eric Andre funny so he doesn’t completely overwhelm the movie. The result is a dash of Eric Andre, a restrained John Cena, and a comedy that’s nowhere near as funny as it should be.
It’s especially disappointing because the supporting cast deserves better. Sherry Cola, playing Cena’s assistant, continues proving she’s an incredibly funny performer, but she isn’t given much to do either. I also think there was a missed opportunity with the kids here, since they seem to exist only to allow Cena fatherhood. In a film with these different brotherhood dynamics, not showing something similar or wildly different in the kids is a missed opportunity.
By the end, I wasn’t wondering who this movie was made for from an audience perspective. I was wondering who it was made for from a talent perspective. None of these actors seem to be playing to their strengths. If anything, Little Brother is a perfect example of why the Academy introduced a Best Casting Oscar. Casting isn’t just about finding talented people. It’s about putting the right people together in roles that actually complement one another. Here, everyone feels oddly disconnected, like they’re acting in slightly different movies.
While I somewhat began to let my mind wander, I did note the audio description was solid, putting up with Andre’s antics. He switches from cringe to physical comedy on a dime, and often his pratfalls have excellent description.
Sadly, Little Brother feels destined to be forgotten almost as quickly as it arrived. That’s unfortunate because John Cena could really use a genuine hit to get back into theaters instead of continuing down the straight-to-streaming path.
And for Eric Andre, I sincerely hope Tim Robinson finally gives him a call.
Rotten: 4.8/10
