“Dumbest thing I ever heard,” is how one character describes the big plan behind The Greatest Beer Run Ever. It seems appropriate that the filmmaker behind it all is something of an expert in the dumb field: Peter Farrelly, the co-director of Dumb And Dumber, among other goofy, gross-out ’90s comedies. But this is late-period Farrelly. Like his Oscar-winning 2018 dramedy Green Book, we find the filmmaker retaining some level of humour, but trousering the dick jokes in favour of a real-life tale and more serious subject matter.
It’s certainly a peach of a true story. Merchant sailor Chickie (Zac Efron) is not quite as dumb as Jim Carrey’s Lloyd or Jeff Daniels’ Harry, but he’s not far off: a hothead who starts fights at peace rallies, with a heart in the right place but a head largely full of mush. It doesn’t seem out of character, then, that he might embark on a deeply ill-advised mission — spurred on by Bill Murray’s thick-accented barman — to hitch a ride on an ammo ship and deliver some cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon to his buddies serving in the military.
The responses to this straightforwardly stupid idea range from incredulity to amazement to a polite explanation that beer is actually already widely available in Vietnam. But Efron sells it nicely, well-cast as a likeable lughead and skilled at summoning an assortment of gormless expressions. Driven only by a black-and-white view of the world and a (frat)boyish optimism, he is, as one character describes him, “too dumb to get killed”.
Enjoyable company for a couple of hours, warmly presented and confidently shot.
This is a war film in which the protagonist is a hapless observer rather than active participant, so it takes on a strange tone — like Taika Waititi’s Jojo Rabbit, constantly in danger of trivialising something deadly serious. Chickie has a thoughtless approach to the war, a stance that softens when he sees the ugly truths, but his limited perspective somewhat limits the scope of the filmmaking. “This isn’t a war — it’s a massacre!” is Chickie’s biggest — and most unoriginal — revelation.
Despite some hard truths served up by Russell Crowe’s photojournalist, the film offers few fresh ideas that a thousand ’Nam movies haven’t already provided. The script, co-written by Farrelly, Brian Currie and Pete Jones, seems to share the character’s lack of curiosity about the causes or complexities of the war, except to make the blunt point that there are no good guys or bad guys. And like many American films set during this war, it relegates the Vietnamese point of view to tiny supporting roles.
If the film struggles to thread the needle between the battling tones or rise above surface-level scrutiny, it is at least enjoyable company for a couple of hours, warmly presented and confidently shot (when the Tet Offensive explodes into Saigon, you feel the danger). It’s a little like its protagonist: slightly misguided, but ultimately hard to resent.