Finally, a movie for everyone who read Shirley Jackson’s and wished it had been a comedy.
Paul Feig’s is a farcical twist on an old story that, if it doesn’t remind people of Jackson's short story will surely sound familiar to those who enjoyed “The Purge” and its sequels. In a near-future California, buying a lottery ticket enters you a chance to win billions. But there’s a catch.
Everyone else is free to try to kill the winner and take the prizemoney. The “winner” has until sundown to survive and keep their money. The only rule: No guns. Hovering drones keep an eye on winners, helping violent mobs find their way to him or her. This state-sponsored Hunger Game is the new low for a government depleted of funds. Meanwhile, the local TV news chipperly announces a few new billionaires every day.
My principle disappointment with “J˛ął¦°ě±č´ÇłŮ!” is that they didn’t go with a title like “Mega Murders” or its original name: “Grand Theft Lotto.” This is a very high concept for a comedy, one that Feig and screenwriter Rob Yescombe lean into to craft a mildly entertaining, streaming-only comedy that’s only a touch less disposable than a losing Powerball ticket.
Mostly, “J˛ął¦°ě±č´ÇłŮ!” is an action-comedy vehicle that pairs and for a romp through a few clever economic inequality gags and a lot of cartoonish mayhem. At the least, it's a more satirical, silly take on a dystopian genre that usually receives more somber treatments. “Mockingjay — Part 1" certainly never had John Cena trying to stomp out a groin on fire.
“Jackpot!,” which debuts Thursday on Prime Video, stars Awkwafina as Katie Kim, a former child actor who, out of midlife desperation, has returned to Los Angeles in 2030 to try to break back into the movie business. A Hollywood where half the town is out for blood is, of course, not such a far-fetched, futuristic concept. That backdrop of raging competitiveness is a running gag in “J˛ął¦°ě±č´ÇłŮ!” Katie is at an audition when she’s announced as the lottery winner, immediately sending the other auditioning actors after her head.
As the quickly forming mob closes in on Katie, a pinstripe suit-clad man comes to the rescue, pledging to protect her for a 10% fee. Noel Cassidy (John Cena) is his name, and, as the two make their getaway, a buddy comedy ensues. Aside from the main task of staying alive, the abiding tension of the movie is how much Katie can trust Noel, and why this very sincere special agent is so dedicated to saving lives. Not only does Noel keep Katie from harm, he makes sure to put a helmet on anyone’s head before kicking them out of a moving car.
Awkwafina’s sarcasm plays well off Cena’s nice-guy earnestness. In one scene, she says he looks like “a bulldog that a witch cast a spell on and turned into a human.” Any comedy with her in the lead role has a fairly high floor, yet “J˛ął¦°ě±č´ÇłŮ!” never pays off. It’s amiably disordered but the high-concept always feels like a ridiculous goof, and its predictable machinations grow increasingly tiresome. Still, this is the rare film where you can say Machine Gun Kelly (whose panic room comes in handy for Katie and Noel) is a surprisingly perfect tonal fit. (Later, a turtlenecked Simu Liu turns up as the smarmy head of a larger, better funder protection agency.)
Feig, the director of “Bridesmaids,” “Spy,” “The Heat” and 2016’s “Ghostbusters,” may be more adept at balancing broad comedy and action sequences than any other working filmmaker. But the big-screen comedy heyday he was once so central to has largely faded in recent years, as studios have grown disappointingly reluctant to gamble with laughs in theaters. It’s hard not to see “J˛ął¦°ě±č´ÇłŮ!” — which pales next to Feig's better films — as an example of this diminished era for theatrical comedies. Then again, as Awkwafina notes in “J˛ął¦°ě±č´ÇłŮ!” Hollywood stardom isn’t what it once was. Now, she says, even wrestlers and YouTubers can do it.
“J˛ął¦°ě±č´ÇłŮ!” an Amazon Studios release, is rated R by the Motion Picture Association of America for pervasive language, violence, and sexual references. Running time: 104 minutes. Two stars out of four.
Jake Coyle, The Associated Press
