Lumps of coal for this film’s stocking (which, I suppose, translates to a poor RottenTomatoes score and a box office run overshadowed by bigger better movies). A Bad Moms Christmas, for all intents and purposes, is not a terrible film. There were moments I laughed, but in the end, A Bad Moms Christmas simply fails to deliver on its familiar premise. Anything the average mom found relatable in the first film is sacrificed in favor of exaggerated caricatures and, yes, more moms partying; only this time, it feels motivated by the need for exciting filler rather than stress-induced necessity.
Deck the halls with posters of better Christmas movies than this. Every annoying flaw of the first film doubles or even triples down on itself and everything that worked in the first film seems it skipped out on the holidays. Whatever emotional core this sequel tries to emanate is swiftly engulfed by an inconsistent tone and attempts at shock value. If you want even more slow motion music montages, this is for you. If you want even filthier humor, but with half the impact, this is for you.
It’s the most wonderful time of the year to see movies, so under an umbrella of winter blockbusters and awards season indies, keep out of the rain and sleet. The first Bad Moms was a refreshing, if flawed, summer comedy with fair execution on its razor-thin premise. The new film is gas station bargain bin material. A Bad Moms Christmas is not inherently awful, nor is it truly an offense to holiday cinema, but it coasts on an “established” shtick that it hasn’t really earned the right to flaunt. For an inconsequential and not particularly memorable night at the movies, it’ll do just fine.
A Bad Moms Christmas earns a few laughs for its likable leads, but stretches a familiar premise and wonton shock value to unbearable limits, while offering very little of the heart that elevated the first film.