‘Daddy’s Home’ review: Mark Wahlberg, Will Ferrell faceoff surprisingly sweet

Surprisingly, “Daddy’s Home” is somewhat more engaged with the deeper issues floating in its orbit, though neither film is as accomplished as last year’s “Neighbors” in stealthily taking on contemporary questions of partnership and self-identity.

Rather than daring humor, you have a pig-tailed poppet telling Brad not to “cry like a bitch”. It’s best to avoid both options, thank you very much. Most of this material is quite amusing, and none of it is truly tasteless. Most come at the expense of Ferrell, who plays the kind of hapless (and occasionally shirtless) straight arrow that the actor could turn out in his sleep. Try as he might, the uber-dorky Brad doesn’t get much love from his stepchildren, who still call him Mr. Whitaker and draw pictures of him with a knife in his eye and a pile of hobo poop on his head.

Ferrell plays Brad, a timid suburban radio executive whose attempts to develop a rapport with the children of his new wife, Sarah (Linda Cardellini), have been hard. The premise alone is a joke, as Dusty weasels his way into staying at Brad and Sarah’s house indefinitely. To compensate, Brad puts himself into increasingly (self-created) embarrassing situations. The brainless-and-brawn chemistry they shared in 2010’s The Other Guys is intact, carrying Sean Anders’ movie through its break-even jokes and sitcom rhythms.

Brad (Will Ferrell) is living the dream. Wahlberg’s character is more based in conceit than performance; he’s expected to get laughs from the idea of his intimidating, physically impressive underminer more than his line deliveries.

What’s Dusty like? “Imagine if Jesse James and Mick Jagger had a baby”, says his ex-wife Sarah (Linda Cardellini).

But the movie softens quickly and confusingly, bouncing Dusty from talented jack-of-all-trades to immature hotshot to slick con artist on a scene to scene basis, without ever milking his ambiguity for laughs. In fact, wait until it comes to Netflix to catch this movie because after one sitting you will have had more than enough. The only reason I believe this to be true is because there’s a scene where the New Orleans Pelicans host the Los Angeles Lakers, young Dylan’s favorite team. A guess: The filmmakers got a tax break for shooting in Louisiana because the film doesn’t feature an ounce of local color.

About that kick in the crotch: If you were thinking that “Daddy’s Home” might make a nice movie to take the family to over the holidays, think again. Rated PG-13 (for thematic elements, crude and suggestive content, and for language).

Also in the cast are Thomas Haden Church, who amps up his trademark icky smarm as Brad’s boss, and Hannibal Buress as a handyman who ends up sleeping on the couch.