Fourth of July

A watered down Woody Allen facsimile that is long on F-bombs and short on wit, with an internal logic that falls apart with barely a half-cocked glance.

A July 4th comedy of familial dysfunction featuring very few laughs.

The sum total of Fourth of July has the same effect on the viewer as being trapped at a party with a nice but dull person who decides to tell you their entire life story without even asking your name.

Fourth of July hardly has a plot. It is, rather, a brutally hilarious character study with the structure of a three-act play about family dynamics, regret and shame, all of it exuding a pungent working-class New England aura.

Fourth of July is a trifle, and a facile, easy-to-watch one. But what it’s offering under the surface feels, in part, like a clandestine defense of Louis C.K.’s transgressions.

The family dynamic here is so unrelentingly brutal that it’s an actual shock to see how glib the movie is in papering it over. Imagine a Dr. Phil producer doing a third-act rewrite of a Tracy Letts play.

But it is all far too small. If an American filmmaker entitles a work “Fourth of July,” a historically and socially loaded phrase, one has the right to anticipate some sort of broader statement.

A nice surprise. Second half better than the first, and a nice improvement over Louis C.K.'s previous film. A step closer to the brilliance that was his TV show.

‘Louie’ alum teams with Joe List for engrossing tale of redemption, hope.

The comedy/drama Fourth of July can't decide if it wants to be offensively edgy or effectively sentimental, and it ultimately fails at being both. It's just a boring display of sloppily written clichés about a bickering and dysfunctional family.