2013 Certificate: 15


Playing twisted versions of themselves, a host of funnymen including Seth Rogen, Jonah Hill, Michael Cera and Jay Baruchel are invited to a housewarming bash round at James Franco's swanky new crib. With all that talent around, it's no surprise that everyone's ready to party like there's no tomorrow. But it is a surprise when doomsday begins and there really is no tomorrow! So it's to Hell with Hollywood as A-listers from Emma Watson to Rihanna are sucked into the maelstrom of laddish meta-comedy and apocalyptic madness.


  • Seth Rogen


  • Seth Rogen

  • Jay Baruchel

  • James Franco

  • Jonah Hill

  • Danny McBride

  • Emma Watson


Seth Rogen is a coward. James Franco is an idiot who thinks he's a savant. Jonah Hill is a passive-aggressive fake. Jay Baruchel has an inferiority complex. Jason Segel is depressed about being typecast. Michael Cera is a coked-up jerk. And Danny McBride isn't funny.

Of course, with one obvious exception, none of this is true. But that's how they present themselves in this barmy meta-lark that sees most of young Hollywood gathered together at Franco's gaff for Judgement Day.

No, not a screening of Terminator 2; the actual, biblical Judgement Day with fire and brimstone and demons and yawning abysses that drag half the guests to Hell before you can say, "Hey, isn't that...?"

Soon it's just Franco, Rogen, Hill, Baruchel, McBride and Craig Robinson from The US Office and Hot Tub Time Machine. At least they have booze and drugs. But with food, water and genuine friendship in short supply, they're going to have to pull together or go to Hell.

Having co-written Superbad and Pineapple Express, Rogen and Evan Goldberg here come up with another scenario custom-made for their frattish obsessions with sex, drugs and movie references.

It's also their first crack at directing, a job obviously made easier by having so many acting buddies willing to make fun of themselves - and stunt and effects teams whose efforts belie the modest budget.

Violent, sweary and puerile (it's the most phallically obsessed production since softcore classic Flesh Gordon), it's not one to watch with the vicar. That said, the whole Revelations deal boils down to faith, so the tale of redemption it becomes is less ironic than you might think.

What is ironic is that for all its digs at self-obsession, it goes on far too long. Guffaw you will, but like a middling sketch show, it gives your sides too many opportunities to recover. Generally whenever McBride is on screen.

But at the end of the day (or world) you'll see plenty of ideas fall flatter than this. Such as Pineapple Express 2, if the rough cut the boys cobble together here is anything to go by. Pray it doesn't happen.

Elliott Noble