I Hate Kids

The dialogue is pat and the story beats predictable, but there are a few yuks in this comedy, largely thanks to skilled supporting players. From its title, you know immediately how I Hate Kids is going to turn out. Scott has some enjoyable moments as a reformed lothario who's reluctantly revisiting a bunch of women he encountered and abandoned in the past. Burgess, as you might expect, milks laughs out of facial expressions and his relationship with his cute dog. Sydney and Kelly's scenes produce the film's best chemistry, with Seehorn's unrelenting skepticism of Nick stealing much of the movie. Casting director Mary Jo Slater also scored with some of the bit players, including Arden Myrin as an unhinged ex and Rico E. Anderson as a hot-and-cold CHP officer. And for some reason, the wonderful Marisa Tomei shows up for a minute.

Many of the gags fall flat, given their obvious setups (gee, wonder what's going to happen when Nick talks to a karate instructor he dumped?). But the main problem with I Hate Kids is that the emotional beats are taken for granted. Despite a game turn by Boston, Nick and Sydney have no rapport. We know from the start that the film will be about Nick's evolution into wanting to be a father and that Sydney will probably arrive at the same place. But their journeys aren't convincing. There's no emotional reality. Similarly, when Mason is potentially meeting his mother for the first time -- over and over, with different candidates -- there's never a sense of anticipation or disappointment for either him or Nick, so there isn't any for viewers. I Hate Kids doesn't make much of an effort to persuade us that its characters love each other, and it doesn't do more than move us to the occasional chuckle.