People enjoy looking at Channing Tatum. That’s good, because his picture’s in the dictionary next to “derivative.” Want to see Tatum, big ass explosions and helicopters on a big screen? By all means, go and see “White House Down” (2013). Otherwise, save your money and wait for Netflix. It’s not a bad action movie (yes, I’m damning it with faint praise). But it has no original ideas. It steals its plot (and Bruce Willis’ dirty old shirt) from “Die Hard,” sprinkles in a little “True Lies” and gives you a knockoff 98 days after the release of “Olympus Has Fallen.”
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Society sorority princess rebels against parents and becomes an artsy chick who meets cute with a hipster doofus and falls in love, only to get amnesia in a car wreck, become a princess again, get divorced, go back to being an artsy chick again, meet cute with doofus again, blah, blah, happily ever after. So much for “The Vow” (2012). To be fair, the movie actually grows on you a little, like a mediocre restaurant you keep going back to because it’s reliably mediocre. Formula plots are formula plots for a reason. Channing Tatum plays the doofus for a reason.
Know the difference between the cool kids and the popular kids in high school? The popular kids care about seeming cool, but the cool kids don’t care if they’re popular. That’s what makes them cool. With that in mind, behold “21 Jump Street” (2012). It is a mediocre rip-off of a mediocre 1980s Fox network detective drama. But it doesn’t care. It sooooo doesn’t care. It drowns its mediocrity in profanity and wears its lack of originality like a crown of irony. Like a pair of hipster horn rims. Which is kind of cool, in a mediocre sort of way.
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