American Reunion
DIRECTED BY JON HURWITZ & HAYDEN SCHLOSSBERG
“SEX!! Now that we have your attention, here’s a middling comedy, coasting on nostalgia.” That (unfortunately) is not the official tagline for American Reunion, but it’s nonetheless an apt slogan for the latest installment in the American Pie franchise, which reassembles the original cast after four direct-to-DVD spin-offs. This sequel’s curious premise/pretext is that the members of the old gang have gathered to celebrate their 13-year high school reunion, and the fact that writer-directors Jon Hurwitz and Hayden Schlossberg call explicit attention to the unorthodox anniversary is an intimation of the self-aware sensibility the duo bring to the Harold & Kumar series.
Unfortunately, Hurwitz and Schlossberg are otherwise content to ape American Pie‘s signature blend of vulgarity and earnest sentimentality, which here feels particularly strained. Beneath its raunchy, R-rated disguise, American Reunion is, like its predecessors, essentially a thoroughly formulaic ensemble romcom, in which several couples (and one ex-couple) are briefly threatened by various contrived misunderstandings before a requisite third-act reconciliation. So Jim (Jason Biggs) must explain to wife Michelle (Alyson Hannigan) why an insatiable 18-year-old can’t keep her hands off him; Oz (Chris Klein) must explain to old flame Heather (Mina Suvari) why party girl Mia (30 Rock‘s Katrina Bowden) can’t keep her hands off him; Kevin (Thomas Ian Nicholas) must explain to former girlfriend Vicky (Tara Reid) why he dreamt that she couldn’t keep her hands off him, and so on.
The surprising saving grace here is Sean William Scott’s Stifler, whose manic douchebaggery remains undiminished, and who’s determined to continue partying like it’s 1999. Unburdened by the perfunctory melodramatics of his classmates’ subplots, Stifler’s aggressively immature antics are American Reunion‘s only reliable source of laughs. And though they probably shouldn’t be (it’s a one-note schtick, and a pretty dumb schtick, at that), Scott’s dedication and exuberance in, for example, defecating into a beer cooler, makes the performance funnier than it has any right to be. Eugene Levy also merits a mention as Jim’s affably awkward dad, but beyond copious callbacks and a soundtrack stacked with ’90s alt-rock staples, American Reunion has little else to offer—unless you fancy a full-frontal eyeful of Biggs’ junk.