After three decades since the last entry in the franchise, Paramount has wisely handed over the keys to “The Naked Gun” reboot to Akiva Schaffer, the “Lonely Island” alumnus who proved his comedy chops with “Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping.”
Rather than attempting to recapture lightning in a bottle by copying the Zucker-Abrams-Zucker formula beat-for-beat, Schaffer and his writing team have crafted something that feels both reverential to the original’s legacy and refreshingly modern in its approach to physical comedy. The decision to cast Liam Neeson as Frank Drebin Jr. initially raised eyebrows, but it proves to be an inspired choice that elevates the material far beyond typical franchise cash-grab territory.
In an era where comedy sequels often rely on nostalgic callbacks rather than genuine laughs, “The Naked Gun” succeeds by understanding what made the originals work while finding its own comedic voice. Schaffer’s background in sketch comedy and music videos brings a kinetic energy to the proceedings that never feels desperate for laughs. The entire snowman-short-film-sequence embedded in the film as an aside is absolutely brilliant. Schaffer is not afraid to push the boundaries of the film’s comedic reach.
Let’s dive into the full review after watching the latest trailer.
The film opens with the theft of a “P.L.O.T. Device”—a simple joke that sets things off on the right foot and immediately establishes the film’s commitment to wordplay over pop culture references. Frank Drebin Jr. (Liam Neeson) is even more of a cop on the edge than his dad, flouting department rules to catch the bad guys. As he wonders aloud, who’s going to arrest him anyway? A cop? Cops don’t arrest cops.
He fends off accusations of impropriety from Chief Davis (CCH Pounder) as he investigates two intertwined cases with his partner Ed Hocken Jr. (Paul Walter Hauser). There’s the aforementioned bank robbery led by slimy criminal Sig Gustafson (Kevin Durand) and an apparent suicide that brings the film’s possible femme fatale into his office—the dead man’s sister, Beth Davenport (Pamela Anderson). She’s convinced that tech mogul Richard Cane (Danny Huston) is behind both crimes, and we soon learn he’s planning to unleash a “Manchurian Candidate”-style device that will turn everyone’s phones into rage-inducing weapons, similar to Matthew Vaughn’s “Kingsman” but not so derivative that it detracts from enjoying the film.
Liam Neeson delivers what might legitimately be one of his best performances, never playing the material like he’s above the ridiculousness of it all. The main reason “The Naked Gun” consistently works is Neeson’s deadpan gravitas—a performer who can be so deadly serious doing things that are so deadly stupid. Whether he’s shooting his way into a bathroom after too many chili dogs or beating a man with his own arms, Neeson approaches each absurd scenario with the same intensity he’d bring to a “Taken” sequel, never winking at the camera like lesser actors would with similar material.
Paul Walter Hauser brings his reliable everyman charm to Ed Hocken Jr., creating genuine buddy-cop chemistry with Neeson while avoiding the temptation to oversell the comic beats. His understated approach allows Neeson’s more outrageous moments to land with maximum impact.
Pamela Anderson proves to be well-cast as Beth Davenport, embracing the femme fatale archetype while bringing enough self-awareness to make the character feel contemporary rather than dated. Her comedic timing, honed through years of self-deprecating appearances, serves the material well.
Danny Huston makes for an effective villain as Richard Cane, playing the tech mogul with just enough megalomaniacal intensity to ground the absurd plot machinations. Kevin Durand and CCH Pounder provide solid support in roles that could have been thankless exposition delivery systems.
Schaffer’s direction demonstrates remarkable restraint for a comedy sequel, allowing physical gags and wordplay to breathe rather than machine-gunning jokes at the audience. Working with cinematographer Brandon Trost (who shot “Popstar”), Schaffer creates a visual style that feels both contemporary and nostalgic, capturing the procedural aesthetic of classic cop shows while accommodating the film’s more outlandish moments.
The production design by Aaron Osborne creates a world that feels grounded enough to make the absurdity land. From police stations to tech company offices, every environment feels lived-in rather than constructed solely for comedic setpieces.
Writers Dan Gregor, Doug Mand, and Schaffer smartly avoid the biggest trap of modern spoofs by largely avoiding pop culture references that would instantly date the film, sticking with wordplay and sight gags that owe debt to everything from Vaudeville to silent comedy. The bits that do reference entertainment properties like The Black Eyed Peas and “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” aren’t trying to ride waves of current viral humor, giving the film a timeless quality that makes the best jokes feel of a piece with the original without being direct copies.
The editing by Tara Timpone maintains perfect pacing throughout the film’s blissfully short 85-minute runtime. Every joke that lands with a thud is quickly followed by one that connects, creating a comedic batting average that may not match the original’s legendary status but consistently delivers smile-inducing moments.
The score by Michael Andrews supports rather than overwhelms the comedy, while sound designers create an audio landscape that enhances physical gags without calling attention to itself. The technical crew clearly understands that comedy requires precision in every department.
Where the film occasionally stumbles is in balancing nostalgia with innovation. Some sequences feel too beholden to recreating classic “Naked Gun” moments rather than forging new comedic territory. However, these moments are overshadowed by original setpieces that demonstrate genuine creativity within the franchise framework.
The film’s approach to modern technology and social media commentary feels organic rather than forced, addressing contemporary anxieties about digital manipulation without becoming preachy. The “Manchurian Candidate” device provides a surprisingly relevant MacGuffin that drives the plot without overwhelming the character dynamics.
Schaffer has crafted a comedy sequel that respects its source material while establishing its own identity. The film succeeds not through slavish imitation but by understanding what made the original work—commitment to absurdity, impeccable timing, and performers willing to fully embrace the ridiculous premise.
In a landscape dominated by franchise tentpoles that treat comedy as an afterthought, “The Naked Gun” proves that well-crafted physical comedy and wordplay still have the power to entertain audiences across generations. While it may not achieve the legendary status of its predecessors, it provides enough genuine laughs to justify its existence and potentially launch a new chapter for the franchise.
Letter Grade: B+