Get me to the greatness of the Greek - Again!

Rating: 6/10 (30 June 2010)

After 2008's quirky romcom Forgetting Sarah Marshall – arguably that years' best giggle wiggle, I was surprised to see that there was going to be a sequel, even if it was indirect, because: a) Sequels rarely work and b) Why ruin what was so enjoyable about the first? It's like if they did 'The 50 Year Old Virgin', it would completely make people reluctant to ever watch Steve Carell again, though Evan Almighty did a good enough job of that.
But here in all its Russell Brandness is a sequel that almost is as good as the first. Hallelujah! This time round instead of Jason Segel being our leading lad, its Russell Brand playing a British rock version of himself, who is being taken from London to L.A. within 72 hours via Aaron Green (Jonah Hill). This however is apparently considered an impossibility and after seeing 0.25 seconds of Aldous Snow, it isn't hard to see why.
If you hate Russell Brand this really isn't for you (Duh?). Everything from his Edward Scissor Hands hairdo to his teenage libido is at an all-time high for 99% of the film, the other 1% being the credits. Hence it is unsurprising why many consider this the visual/audio version of his 'My Booky Wook'. Personally I love dear Russell, to the point of wanting to dip him in my coffee and put sprinkles all over his head.
Russell along with Jonah Hill and P.Diddy make a threesome that is a delightfully humorous combination, like a modern day 'Apatow' version of the three wise men. On the topic of threesomes, that word will never have the same pleasurable meaning again after seeing Get Him to the Greek - just stay away from a horny Jonah Hill, that's all I'm saying.
Out of all the whole grain goodness of the film - sorry about that, I forgot it wasn't a cereal, the Las Vegas scene is quite easily the most funny. It has the kind of mayhem you'd expect to have happened during the drunkenness of The Hangover. There is also a scene within that of an adrenaline shot which compared to the heart stopping nervousness of Pulp Fictions' certainly isn't the counterpart.
Admittedly Forgetting Sarah Marshall is marginally funnier, but that doesn't mean if there was a threequel I would at all be hesitant to watch it. My bets on it being Kristen Bell and her cheesy in-film television shows – but I'd much rather have them call it a day than risk another spin-off.