Hey, moms! Are you sick of all the stupid movies where mothers are relegated to one of the three classic "Mom" character cinema tropes? You're either crazy psycho mom (um...Psycho), sexy and/or cool mom (Mean Girls, American Pie), or generic-bob-cut-in-a-cardigan-and-kahkis-mom. But now someone has had enough of that shit and built us a movie we can relate to, and that movie is Bad Moms.
Bad Moms opens July 29 and stars Mila Kunis, Christina Applegate, Kirsten Bell, and Kathryn Hahn — who I have crushed hard on since her turn as super-driven campaign manager Jennifer Barkley to Paul Rudd's "Bobby Newport" on Parks and Rec. From the looks of the Bad Moms trailer, it's definitely NSFW, but I DGAF. (Ultimately it really just depends on where you work, because where I work (cough, cough) we cannot get enough of this shit.) I've been watching it on loop since a co-worker shared it with me a few days ago.
Think you're having a bad day, Mom? Check out the first 45 seconds of the trailer and see what Kunis is up against before she finally decides enough is enough.
I'd pay $15 plus the inevitable nacho cheese tongue burn just to see the "never hard" balls bit on the big screen.
Who here hasn't at one time or another tired of all the competition in being perfect, even if it's never presented as such? I spent hours and hours of my life attempting to construct full scale replica Harry Potter cakes and Pinterest-worthy children's birthday parties before I realized that NO ONE CARES. If you like to do it, power to you. I'd rather put my energy into hitting some high notes during an impromptu kitchen dance party. Like the moms in Bad Moms, I am realizing that life itself is magical enough, and for the average nine year-old, two bags of chips, a pack of full fat hotdogs, some pop, and a couple of squirt guns does an awesome party make. I am definetly more "bad mom" than "good mom" according to the margins of this movie, and Bad Moms looks over the top, and yes, it's stereotypical in its own way. (Full disclosure: before I wrote this, I ate my lunch of Cinnamon Toast Crunch from a glass measuring cup with a silver relish spoon because I forgot to turn dishwasher on, again. So, you can see I give exactly zero fucks about portraying perfection in any form.) I also surround myself with real "bad" moms, including those who accidentally send cans of beer in children's lunches when they meant to grab a can of soda. They are my people, and our song is the sound of a clogged toilet and a puking child.
We wouldn't have it any other way.
Maybe we need to swing the motherhood perfection pendulum all the way in one direction in order establish balance, then let's go all balloon animal penis on this thing and enjoy the ride. The movie looks like it'll be good for a fun night out, and no one is saying "Oscar Buzz." I will say I'm a little frightened of all the pent up mom-rage energy that will be looking for an escape valve on opening night of this show. I kind of foresee it being like old-school viewing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show, where one throws all manner of items at the screen in relation to what scene is being portrayed. Just to be safe, for this one I'm loading up a duffel bag with pacifiers, beige nursing bras, and organic quinoa snack squares.