A Million Ways to Die in the West

A Million Ways to Die in the West's opening credits make it clear that nothing within is to be taken seriously.

They playfully ambush a stunning solar-powered sight, calling its dynamism into question, while mischievously reinforcing it at the same time.

Within this ambush lies MacFarlane's gambit, can his wise-cracking intertextual self-aware stir-crazy sense of humour be applied to a Western filmscape, in 1882, the setting wild and untamed, the middle-class, struggling to define itself?

It's a bold move. Apart from Blazing Saddles, Westerns generally lack this kind of exposure. In the spirit of the wild west MacFarlane explores new ground, faces up to the challenge, diversifies, drills, prospects, but the booty accumulated, unfortunately, fails to impress.

The blend's too sour.

That could be the point.

It's not that his chemistry with Anna (Charlize Theron) isn't soluble, or that I didn't love seeing intelligent book smarts talk their way out of multiple gunfights.

The jokes just aren't very sustainable.

Take the moustache song, brilliant idea, but it falls flat, like having nothing but the option of straight whiskey, there's contentment in the availability, but stomach pain in the habituation.

Doc Brown's (Christopher Lloyd) cameo distills what I mean, this device having worked for MacFarlane ad infinitum in his other works, but it just seems bland in A Million Ways's context.

But there is another Back to the Future reference, a bit a subtle foreshadowing, in the form of the old prospector, played by the loveable Matt Clark.

With his lil' dog Plugger.

The subtlety of this reference was more powerful, relating directly to the difficulties Albert's (Seth MacFarlane) having asserting himself in the desert, the Doc Brown reference functioning like the response he generally receives from his neighbours, within the film's meta-formalities.

Correct.

That's correct.

Ted

Magic and a child's dream of having a friend brings a cuddly teddy bear to life in Seth MacFarlane's Ted, thereby transforming little John Bennett's (Mark Wahlberg, Bretton Manley) existence from one dominated by loneliness to one permeated with joy.

With neither responsibility nor consequences.

And an inexhaustible supply of the kind.

But the introduction of John's steady love interest Lori Collins (Mila Kunis) and their 4 year relationship threatens to end John and Ted's (Seth MacFarlane) non-stop binge, and a hitherto unimaginable strain threatens their impregnable friendship.

Obviously things need to change, and Lori is exceptionally relaxed and understanding, but after Ted moves out and John continues to haplessly disregard his social and economic obligations, things fall apart, and he finds himself back on his own.

Struggling to get by.

Mr. MacFarlane's undeniable gift for packing his scripts full of nostalgic pop cultural references does not struggle, however, and Ted's narrative is jam packed with witty intertextual memorabilia (also written by Alec Sulkin and Wellesley Wild).

Johnny Quest is mentioned.

Ted Danson makes light of his more successful Cheers co-star Woody Harrelson in a bit of playful bad taste.

And Ted's answer to The Wedding Singer's use of Billy Idol impresses at first.      

A lot of the jokes are funny, but the consistent barrage of cheap shots loses its appeal as the film unreels.

While some movies use repetitive jokes effectively (Paul's three boobs for instance), the devices Ted borrows from Office Space grow tiresome and the second half doesn't hold together well.

The subplot involving Donny (Giovanni Ribisi) is taken way too far.

As is the use of Ted's Billy Idol.

And the nauseating Rex (Joel McHale).

Too much reliance on knee-jerk reactions and not enough on strong character development, Ted flounders where it could have flourished and applies the brakes when requiring acceleration.

I've seen Adam Sandler movies that were better.

Seriously.