Even though everyone and their mama will most likely crowd theaters all over this land to see Star Wars: The Force Awakens, people should still take in a Sisters screening afterwards, just so they can see something even more spectacular: Tina Fey acting like an irresponsible ho.
Fey has practically made a career out of playing sarcastic-yet-sensible sticks-in-the-mud who thankfully come equipped with an appealing, redeeming wit. So it’s damn near amazing seeing her all slutty and sassy as Kate, the unbridled single-mom older sis to Amy Poehler’s controlled, divorced Maura. Fey’s hard-luck honey doesn’t have a pot to piss in or the window to throw it out of; even her own daughter (Madison Davenport) begs her to act her age so she can stop being the mature one in the relationship.
Nevertheless, Kate is all tart zingers, boozy trashiness and zero-fucks attitude — and it’s the most entertaining Fey's been in years. The setup has siblings Fey and Poehler freaking out when their parents (James Brolin and Dianne Wiest) put their childhood home on the market and move to a retirement condo. As they clean out their rooms, the sisters decide to throw one last blowout in their old crib. It’s a party that attracts all their old friends and enemies, some played by Saturday Night Live cast members past (Rachel Dratch, Maya Rudolph) and present (Bobby Moynihan, Kate McKinnon).
The uninhibited Fey has to serve as the “party mom” this time around, staying sober and sane so her square sis can finally get her freak on for one night and hook up with a studly neighbor (The Mindy Project’s Ike Barinholtz). But a lot of R-rated hijinks still go down, especially when a tattooed John Cena (who’s been in a lot of movie comedies lately) shows up with a tacklebox full of drugs.
While Sisters follows in the Bridesmaids tradition of shining a light on women who get into guffaw-inducing trouble while trying to get their shit together, the movie takes a while to get funny. The comic anarchy doesn’t pop until the second half, where the sisters’ party brings down the house in oh-so-many ways. It’s obvious director Jason Moore (Pitch Perfect) let Fey and Poehler — who have such a damn-near-telepathic bond by now, they might as well be sisters — riff their way through former SNL/30 Rock writer Paula Pell’s hit-or-miss script, perking things up with profane zaniness.
But it’s worth the slow build just to see Fey gleefully revel in snotty/thotty behavior. I always knew there was a bad girl lurking behind those spectacles, just waiting to attack.
