In an unbelievable turn of events, a comedy, that promotes the badass, crime-stopping life that's seemingly led by a standard police officer, releases at the height of a colossal controversy in which the true belligerent, imperious nature of the police has become ever more apparent, thus blighting the film's humor with an ominous undertone. In reality, a viewer's enjoyment of a particular movie doesn't solely stem from the actual content's quality but also from the experience in and of itself—the people you're with, the ambiance you're encompassed by, etc. This has never been more evident, but at the same time, it complexly diverts into two separate paths of sentiment: one of sheer fun as the rest of the audience's laughter and elation mixes in with mine and produces a tremendous atmosphere heretofore mentioned, and the other of perplexity—or perhaps, even, repulsion.
Now, I don't want to pose as the killjoy, but the pure obnoxiousness evinced in this film is quite overwhelming. At the very start, you have two men (Ryan and Justin) who're truly lost in their lives and have no idea of what their next step in life is, surrounded by jerks who continuously remind them of their stunted growth in potential careers. A depressing aura sets in as the sheer relevance of this predicament becomes realized, which makes you hold on in even greater anticipation for the fun to commence. Lo and behold, suddenly, that dispiriting tone of the opening transforms into the very opposite as these two disparately personified friends are inflicted with a contagious idea that leads them to don authentic police uniforms and henceforth further into their imitation of a law enforcement officer. What follows is a string of morally reprehensible acts on their part merely because they can—they obtain an (spurious) authoritative status and instantly decide to assert their power over regular people, belittling them through all kinds of mockery.
Oftentimes, you can't help but laugh hysterically—I know I did—but at the same time, you begin to question your own sense of humor and the exact decency of our two (deranged) protagonists who we're following and guffawing along with throughout. Even though plenty of scenes lead to golden hilarity, the characters involved behave rather moronically and nonsensically. Who thought it'd be a great idea to speedily drive through a soccer field, populated with adolescents, in a police car just for the gasconade of it? Ryan, the genius. Who would be that franticly avid to turn himself into the police? Justin, the upstanding citizen. One also would assume that individuals couldn't possibly be this overt in their cluelessness and disquietude, undeniably arousing suspicion from everyone around, but these two imbeciles are.
In addition, the plot relies on one contrivance after another—the villains are omnipresent to a laughable degree, and characters somehow run into each other at the perfect time to initiate the next plot point. In essence, this could best be described as an entertaining and laugh- out-loud funny "guilty pleasure"; though illogical decisions and plot holes profuse its every minute, Let's Be Cops ultimately delivers the laughs and thrills, especially given the fact that its last act suddenly shifts into a crime thriller with a few satisfying twists and turns up its sleeve.
Rob Riggle, Andy Garcia, and Keegan-Michael Key make very memorable appearances with the latter portraying an eccentric Latino nutcase who speaks amusing broken English and is bedecked with tattoos and various jewelries. When it concerns laughter, this film certainly comes equipped with uproarious surprises and harmonious chemistry between its two leads (Jake Johnson playing the laidback, imprudent type and Damon Wayans Jr. the more uptight, circumspect partner-in-crime). All in all, the best advice I could give to those still curious about seeing the movie: go in, forget about everything, cease any level of thought- processing, and have a good time!