"The Hangover: Part III"

The title of this third (and hopefully last) installment of the “Hangover” franchise is misleading. There is no hangover; at least, not until after the credits have started rolling and we’re given a short scene of the all-too-familiar nudity, drugs, and absurd amounts of booze.

Director Todd Phillips makes a bold move by not including the familiar premise of the last two installments of his trilogy, and at first it’s a welcome change. We’re not immediately led to believe that this film, like its sequel, will be the formulaic plug-and-chug of frivolity and the attempt to reconstruct the evening post-inebriation. There’s a sense of change, or at least an attempt to make the film appear different.

But problems confront the film almost as soon as it begins. Unlike the last two films, our lens isn’t focused on the Wolf Pack, but on the spitfire Leslie Chow (Ken Jeong). Tunneling out of his maximum-security prison and wading through the sewer system, à la “Shawshank Redemption,” Chow bursts into the open world eager for drugs, girls and stolen gold.

If, like me, you tired of Chow halfway through the first film, taking his periodic outrageous moments with little more than an occasional snicker, you’ll grow sick of the pinched-voice character here. His antics are the stuff of cheap, hard liquor during a hangover: hardly enjoyable the first time around and vomit-inducing the second.

Sharing the spotlight with Chow is the hirsute manboy Alan (Zach Galifianakis). Recently taken off medication, Alan celebrates his new freedom by buying a giraffe, but promptly decapitates it. While giving him his residual tongue lashing, Alan’s father suffers a heart attack and dies, prompting an intervention from family, friends, and the Wolf Pack.

The Wolf Pack, consisting of Phil (Bradley Cooper), Stu (Ed Helms) and Doug (Justin Bartha) make the decision to drive out to Arizona, where Alan—more annoying, proto frat-boy with greasy locks than the awkward fat kid he once was—is headed to a rehabilitation clinic. But the plan goes awry The gang is kidnapped by a mobster who tells them they have three days to find and capture Chow, who stole $42 million in gold from him. Doug is taken as collateral and promised a slug in the head of anyone tells the police.

What follows is the search and rescue drill from the last two films, but where those films constantly upped the ante, the third installment bumbles along a nonlinear path that relies upon Alan for most of its humor.

This is an unfair burden to place upon Galifianakis, though it doesn’t stop the actor from trying to take the reins of the group while Phil and Stu watch, helpless. Scene after scene of Alan shaking his mane or whining go by and draw on much, much longer than they should. Alan’s absurdity only worked when it was bounced against a strong, straight character like Phil. Cooper, rugged, confident and ever in control, was a convincing leader. He wore his arrogance like a well-chosen piece of jewelry: ostentatiously but appropriately, and viewers could sit back and enjoy it. Why he and Helms, much stronger in the previous installments, choose to let Galifianakis steal away all the glory (or lack thereof) remains a mystery.

Of course, nothing can be said that will stop the fans from sneaking in the back exit and posting the memorable lines as their Facebook statuses (expect “I’m Alan and I bought a giraffe” to flood your newsfeed). This, however, will probably die out soon enough. Nothing in Phillips’ film passes as any other than cheap gag comedy. Tired and bored, with the staleness of something once good now bland and sour, Hangover: Part III is every bit the taste of sobriety.