Kinda Pregnant Review

There are two howling apes fighting to the death inside your mind while Kinda Pregnant is on. While one brandishes a knife in defence of the cynical lead character, the Happy Madison form which brought us Adam Sandler greats and has a hint of Dirty Work to it, the other has a machine gun and a bowtie, blindly firing into the air and hitting a few tertiary targets. A slapstick Amy Schumer piece was funded instead of a David Lynch series, the least-deserving comedians go on, pampered and provided for by Netflix which seems to be growing in its anti-art stance. But we must be against the streaming services overlooking true comedic talents and also acknowledge the consistencies to be found in these films. Even if the characters are reprehensible, unfortunately cast, and struggling to piece together what few humorous moments there are, there must be some life in Kinda Pregnant. 

Schumer has not been the shining comedic force she once barely was a decade ago – and her return to the screen in Kinda Pregnant is filled with all the shortcomings expected of a film which feels dead on arrival. Dated, to say the least. From sight gags with bleach to the generally stale feeling of seeing a clumsy lead struggle to step up to societal expectations. Following the usual narrative beats on down-on-their-luck leads with a wild idea to reinvigorate themselves, it should be easy for Kinda Pregnant to write in some jokes. It is not, and very little of it lands, none of it with the side-splitting energy expected of decades worth of experience. Schumer shouting and pulling faces is a relatively low rung. All those jokes in the lead-up to the inevitable, socially unacceptable choice painted as desperation, are tiresome. 

Everything after it fares no better. Schumer is a redundant lead, while Jillian Bell and Will Forte are mere meat in the room for what is a desperate comedy. Tyler Spindel’s direction boils down to needle-drop moments of pop tracks, cameos from famous faces friendly with the Happy Maddison family and the first steps of someone seemingly inexperienced behind the camera. Yet the man behind The Wrong Missy and Father of the Year, two films so sorely lacking in any modern-day relevancy, is once more not up to speed. Most, if not all of Kinda Pregnant, is a dull procession of sex jokes, mental breakdowns painted lightly or self-interested characters trying to pull one another down. This is fantastic material in the right hands. Kinda Pregnant is in the claws of some creature.  

And so those two creatures continue their dance. One pinging shots off the rock the other is hiding behind, clutching a knife in this particular gunfight. Kinda Pregnant is just a dull symptom of a wider problem growing at great speed. With the finite time we have, shuffling around and hoovering up what culture we have, we must question what purpose there is in watching this. Light on laughs, lighter on purpose, Kinda Pregnant is kind of a waste of its talent, our time, and the money used to make it. Not everything has to be high art – but some effort must be made. Take a look at the other works of Happy Maddison, what Sandler or unrelated efforts across the pond from Dianne Morgan and Alice Lowe, and remember there is better than this. Far better. Let the apes down their arms.