When you look at 22 Jump Street and The Lego Movie side by side, both directed by the same team, it's easy to come to the conclusion that your conservative high-school teachers probably tried to convince you of years ago - free rein to be as profane and dirty as you like can actually stifle creativity, while boundaries and censorship make you find clever alternatives. I'm not saying that's always true, but in the case of Chris Miller and Phil Lord this year, it definitely seems to be. The end credits of 22 Jump Street, forced to be reliant on visual humor, are almost endlessly inventive, reminiscent of some of their Lego gags, and by far the best thing in the film. Essentially, they take the Marvel Studios notion that final credits should set up sequels and spin-offs, and go way, waaaay further.
But hey, maybe I'm just too old to find uproarious the notion that male bonding sometimes accidentally resembles gay relationships. And maybe I'm naïve to think we should all be past that point. If you're too young to see this movie unaccompanied, you're probably just the right audience.
You'll also be disappointed by the lack of boobies.