Comfortable and Furious

Moms’ Night Out


This is one of the whitest movies I’ve ever seen.

Now, some people might say that such a statement is racist. They may also say that some of the other statements I am going to make in the following review are racist. I’d just like to remind everyone that I myself am white, so it’s all good. It’s ok! I can say these things! Right?

Anyway, movies like this just make me wonder how white people came to dominate the world these past few centuries. Seriously, how did anyone come to believe that this was a culture worth living in? The film takes place in a terrifying hellscape of minivans, two-story houses, those giant metallic sinks that are all the rage now, people that unironically bump “Gangnam Style”, conversations that involve how much money they’re making at their full-time jobs, and people discussing “blogging” as if anyone had ever used that term seriously at any time in human history. In other words, this movie takes place amongst upper middle class white people. It is a world where people actually get a proper night’s sleep due to an absence of gunshots ringing off into the night sky and feel both needed and appreciated by both their families and their workplaces. It is a world where hard work and perseverance lead to entry to higher income tax brackets and Thanksgiving Dinner conversations centered on the stock market. Welcome to the land of my birth.


Moms’ Night Out is the story of a “mommy blogger” who is under extreme stress from her busy child-caring schedule. Sure, a young boy in Gaza slept on the floor of a shelter after his whole family was killed in a bombing; the only other survivor of the explosion was his pet cat. That’s not important, though. That young boy doesn’t understand. Mommy Blogger has to go to church with three kids in tow and deal with their antics. Won’t anyone think of the white people?

Mommy Blogger needs a break, so she plans a “Moms’ Night Out” with two of her friends. The child-caring responsibilities are left to her husband and his friend. They’re white guys in a Hollywood movie, so I think we all know how effective their child-caring abilities are supposed to be. Hey, to quote Frank Tilghman, “It was a good night. Nobody died.” What more could a wife ask for?


By the way, Mommy Blogger’s Husband is played by Sean Astin. It took me half of the movie to remember why I recognized him. I think I’m losing my mind. Anyway, this realization just adds a whole new layer of depression to the proceedings. Is this really what awaited Sam after he settled down with Rosie? This man assisted in the mission that destroyed the dark lord Sauron once and for all. Can’t his wife let him play video games without judgment?

Yes, much like my arch-nemesis Hillary Clinton, Mommy Blogger hates video games and calls her husband’s friend a “manchild” for playing them. She repeatedly refers to them as “death video games” and deplores the blood and violence present in them. It’s not that this woman couldn’t pass the Turbo Tunnel; I’m not sure she’d even be able to defeat the walker mech at the end of Ragnarok’s Canyon. Why does she think that her opinion on this topic matters? I want these anti-video game folks to pass the Turbo Tunnel, and I want it on film. Then, and only then, will I take their opinion seriously. I’ll still ignore it, but I’ll defend their right to say it.

You first, Hillary. No taking the warp to Surf City. The entire level. Go.


Moms’ Night Out kicks into overdrive as the Moms’ Night Out goes horribly wrong. It turns out that their dinner reservation was messed up due to a misunderstanding between the phrases “this Saturday” and “next Saturday”. Only in White America. In the grand tradition of The Dude, the women decide to go bowling while their husbands swap the moms’ minivan for another car. Unfortunately, they are unable to inform them of this change because Mommy Blogger flipped out, confiscated their cell phones, and left them in the minivan when she had a moment. Thus, our fearless heroines are stranded at a bowling alley, believing their precious minivan to be stolen. It’s just a harrowing experience. How do white people even find time to breathe with all of this stress?

A high-speed chase later ensues as Sam’s friend and Some Other Guy attempt to evade a biker in the minivan; they are subsequently caught by a police officer responding to the earlier report of the minivan being stolen. Luckily, they are simply arrested, rather than being gunned down in the street like animals. Sometimes, being white (or, at least, not being black) really pays off.


In short, this whole movie is White People Problems. Obviously, I don’t think that every movie needs to have characters with problems that I can personally relate to, but I really just couldn’t understand this movie. I mean, when Godzilla beats up other monsters, I understand why he does it. When he breathes atomic breath, or roars triumphantly towards the sky, it is always done with a purpose, and overall, he gives a very effective and moving performance in each of his films. When I watch movies like Moms’ Night Out, I’m at a complete loss. Why are these people acting this way? Why are all of their conversations centered on kids, family, and work? Do they even know who Gamera is?

They’re white people, guys. If they ask you where something is and you absentmindedly say “a la derecha” while motioning to the right, they look at you like you just shit on their lawn. How are they supposed to know what that means?


As if all of this wasn’t bad enough, this movie also features Patricia Heaton and several scenes where people talk about their faith in Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior. I’m not one to get all wound up over the second part, but I know that some of the Ruthless Reviews readership is not exactly a big fan of that gentleman. Still, I believe we’re in agreement on the first part, as Patricia Heaton is universally loathed by every proud American failureman. We play video games, watch bad movies, talk about math and programming, masturbate to Ariana Grande, and all the while, she judges us. Even if we haven’t masturbated to Ariana Grande in like, two days, she still acts like we do it all the time. Her bigotry is just sickening.

So basically, this movie is every failureman’s worst nightmare. It’s a bunch of white people talking about kids, marriage, commitment, acting like an adult, not playing video games 10 hours a day, not talking about Dredd during a family dinner, going to church, and being responsible. God, I just wanted to die.

Is there any way that I can renounce my whiteness? I mean, I work and live amongst Asians and Hispanics. I don’t think I count as part of this sphere anymore. Can I just fill out a form or something so that I don’t have to be associated with movies like this? It’s just too much. This must be how Colin Powell felt when he watched Soul Plane. It’s just an hour and a half of a voice in your mind going, “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.”


Anyway, the movie concludes with on-screen text dedicating the film “to moms everywhere.” I’m not sure if they’re including Mrs. Bates in that, as she’s deceased, but I still thought of her when that text popped up and subsequently started laughing. Really, though, the text (and the movie as a whole) seems quite prejudiced against species that don’t practice sexual reproduction. The Gremlins, for instance, reproduce when water is spilled on them and spores pop out of their back. The Gremlins don’t have moms. Is this movie not dedicated to them?

That’s white people for you, though. It’s all about them, and everybody else needs to live the way they do. Those that do not live in a manner they approve of are subject to their judgment. They are the rulers of the world, and it’s everyone else that has problems. What I’m trying to say is that upper middle class white people hate Gremlins. They probably don’t like the Predators either. They don’t like anything!

What I’m trying to say is that Hillary needs to best a Predator in mortal combat if she wants to be elected. How else will I feel that Mom is keeping the country safe?



, ,