Max:  JUnderstanding the burden of PTSD from a dog, weapon smuggling, and sweet bike tricks.

From just reading the tagline, “BEST FRIEND. HERO. MARINE.”, I just had to catch this movie. Well, I didn’t have to, but it was on and was on my third cocktail waiting for Rambo on HBO. The MARINE part stuck out like a fucking sore thumb. How the fuck did a dog hump a rucksack? Did the dog go to Parris Island or San Diego? Can a dog rifle qual at 500 yards? What are the cutting scores for Max to get promoted? I mixed a fourth drink and settled in, prepared for a heart-warming tale of a boy and his dog. Instead I was treated to casual racism, truck explosions, and that chick from the Gilmore Girls looking thick as fuck.


”Hey, Max. Remember that firefight where we were pinned down and you just licked your balls the entire time? Man, that was a close call.”

Max, starts in Afghanistan where our hero goes on patrol with a bunch of actors that forgot to blouse their boots sporting out of regs haircuts. Max’s job is hunting down asshole insurgents and finding weapon caches with his handler Kyle. With Kyle is Tyler, who has been skimming off the top selling weapons on the side. Kyle gets killed in action and circumstances put Max in the hands of his dipshit brother Justin. I don’t want to type this dumbass plot anymore. Let’s just say that with the help of a healing family and his brown friends, they shut down a cartel weapons deal and manage to get a couple confirmed kills in the process. Max wins and even gets Justin to stop acting like a whiney bitch. Let freedom ring.

”Hey, Max. Remember that time when I was trying to get to second base with Becky Smith and you just licked your balls the entire time? Man, that was a great time.”

The film also has some pretty good talent involved like Thomas Haden Church playing the stern father that looks like he just needs a sixer to finally cave and beat the stupid out of his son. I give Lauren Graham a lot of shit, but she’s great. No one can say, “Fuck me, Santa.” like you. They even threw in Luke Kleintank from The Man in the High Castle. He did too much of a good job that he didn’t seem like that bad of a guy. I guess that doesn’t say much since his last gig got him playing a Nazi spy. Josh Wiggins does a fantastic job of playing a pouty little shit that you got to give it up to him for nailing down a teenager. And where would this movie be without Max? Max is a dog. He’s no Beethoven, but he’s convincing enough of job making you believe he’s a dog that he’s skirting in Oscar territory.

”Max. You’re so silly. Your German not Mexican.”

I mentioned earlier “brown friends” and casual racism since it is fucking hilarious in this film. Justin’s friend Chuy is a textbook example how to not use cultural slang. “Thanks but I gotta go home and make sure that Border Patrol doesn’t invade my house.” It’s like a white guy tried too hard to write a Hispanic character and the result is cringe vomit. When Justin is trying to cross a river and can’t, guess who saves him from drowning and gets him across. Yep. After wading through Chuy’s stupid banter, they even manage to have a Cartel member forced to sit in the back of the truck with a dog. Sorry, bro. Three white guys got it up here. Get in the back with the dog you fucking Mexi…uhhh....Cartel guy.” I don’t think the movie was actually going for this, but holy shit is it funny.

p>This movie is all over the place. It’s like there’s a little action movie that stuck in a family friendly film. There’s shootouts and trucks exploding. Justin is a pro at knocking motherfuckers out with a bike with Max taking out two big ass dogs and barreling through any motherfucker that gets in his way. I don’t know why there’s a plot with Cartels in this fucking movie, but it helps accelerate the retardedness in an enjoyable way. It won’t reach the Full Metal Jacket levels that will propel it into Marine Corps film history, but here’s for trying. Semper Fi, Max.