Review: Ted.

Ted

I overheard someone saying recently that they didn’t enjoy Seth McFarlane’s directorial debut Ted because it was, and I quote “a boys’ film”. Having now seen what’s being billed as the best comedy of the summer I can officially confirm that it’s not. And I’ve got a vagina. A film for boys? Certainly not. A film for idiots? Very possibly.

The beauty of Ted, however, means that isn’t even a criticism. That one of the film’s funniest scenes involves a hooker ‘making toilet’ on a living room floor should give you a rough idea of the level Ted works at. That the laughs come purely from the discovery of the offending feculence, rather than graphic images of the waste being ‘curled off’, illustrates that there’s both clever writing and sharp-as-a-tac timing at work here, going hand in hand with stunningly base jokes about conducting sexual acts with a parsnip.

Crass humour and below-the-belt shots at those in the withering gaze of the public eye have become the hallmark of Family Guy foreman McFarlane, and those familiar with his work on animated comedy will know exactly what to expect here. McFarlane doesn’t exactly stretch himself with Ted; in fact some of the gags sound fishily familiar to ears well acquainted with Family Guy politically-incorrect stylings.

Fart jokes, cut-aways and a New England man-child with an attachment to an anthropomorphic smart-mouth are just some of the aspects of Family Guy that McFarlane brings with him. But the rule he really clings to, and the key aspect of making his eponymous Ted both atrociously funny, yet innately likeable, is this; put something borderline racist, misogynistic, or downright unpleasant in the mouth of a cartoon character, or in this instance, a CGI stuffed toy, and the sentiment is made palatable. You’ll probably just about get away with it.

The plot itself is nothing to write home about, based largely around the now familiar, and evidently profitable, concept of the ‘bromance’. A fire kindled in the 1990s skater community and stoked by new-age Bratpack types like Vince Vaughn and Paul Rudd, the classic rom-com set-up has recently been turned into an oft-begrudged threesome, with bros versus hoes becoming as common a story arc as boy-meets-girl. In this instance though, there’s a twist. The bro is a stuffed bear. Wished to life by young John (Mark Wahlberg, with yet more proof that he’s just as comfortable wielding one-liners as he is massive guns) Ted is a filth-mongering anti-hero, a jobless womaniser, and a fan of a strain of weed known as Mind Rape. (Mind Rape being favoured above Gorilla Panic, They’re Coming, They’re Coming and This Is Permanent.) The hoe vying against him for John’s attentions is the reasonably underused Mila Kunis, who has little to do here but trot out her feisty one-of-the-boys act and provide the emotional jeopardy. Oh, and look fit.

You’d be forgiven for assuming it’s the teddy-shaped twist that sets the film apart from recent buddy-flick fare, such as 2009’s affable I Love You, Man; but it’s surprising how quickly you forget that you’re witnessing the antics of a stuffed animal. The ridiculous premise is off-handedly glossed over courtesy of some outrageous narration by Sir Patrick Stewart, all but enforcing a suspension of disbelief, which allows total submission to the jokes that follow. Despite its gimmick, what elevates Ted above is the quality of the gags. They’re not big, they’re not always clever, but they are extremely funny.

However, you have to pin the jokes onto something, and sadly in this case it’s a hackneyed, predictable falling-out and a tacked-on sub-plot involving an obsessive fan. The last third of the film is virtually laugh-free, and it’s especially disappointing that such a comedy miscreant as McFarlane stoops to a paint-by-numbers story arc. But, if you want to make jokes like these in a $50m film, compromise has to be made somewhere. If the final act was meant as an intentional parody, it doesn’t go nearly far enough to prove it, and falls foul of a well-treaded trail.

Though it starts off lewd, loud and hilarious, the final third becomes bogged down in listless schmaltz. To say it’s a comedy with as much sentiment-stuffed heart as laughs would be stretching the truth; when emotion creeps in, or rather in some scenes, ham-fistedly smashes through, it loses its way. Though it never quite gets as cringe-worthy as it could be in less capable hands, it jars with the obnoxious, near-the-knuckle tone it sets early on, and we’re left waiting for the fart jokes to kick back in. It’s left to Giovanni Ribisi at his skin-crawling, pencil-moustachioed best – and a brilliantly choreographed punch-up – to tide it over to the end credits.

Although it flounders, there’s still more than enough laughs here to make it worthy of the accolades it’s garnering. You don’t have to be an idiot to enjoy Ted, just suspend your sensibilities and embrace life’s greatest truth: fart jokes are funny.

Ted is currently showing at the Tyneside Cinema in Newcastle. For tickets, see: tynesidecinema.co.uk.