As if taking a cue from its own title, the movie emphatically sets its sights on the upward trajectory of Brown’s career.
Writer-director David E. Talbert adapts his own 2003 novel into something as useless as it is implosive.
Leave it to Fucked Up to illustrate so neatly that accessibility doesn’t have to herald the loss of credibility.
Only time—and, purportedly, a third film—will tell if this move is one of audacity or outright stupidity.
The film proudly flaunts its maker’s right to make movies as badly as Bart Freundlich, Peyton Reed, and Woody Allen.