The ultraviolent fever dream America: The Motion Picture is an indulgent and excessive movie. Yet, it squanders its own potential by leaning into the worst elements of its comedy. Written by David Callaham and directed by Matt Thompson (in his feature directorial debut), the Netflix movie embraces tired and insensitive jokes, which distracts from the moments that are genuinely funny, surprising, and clever. Unfortunately, America: The Motion Picture is fundamentally an offensive mixed-bag that relies too heavily on lazy stereotypes and over-used pop culture parodies.
America: The Motion Picture is a revisionist depiction of American history, expressed through a superhero-inspired lens. It features anachronistic gags, steam-punk-infused fantastic weaponry, and epic battles with enough guts and gore to keep any action fan entertained. The story follows a fictionalized version of the Founding Fathers. After his friend Abe Lincoln (Will Forte) is murdered, a jacked, vapid version of George Washington (Channing Tatum) goes on a quest for vengeance against the British, recruiting others along the way: Samuel Adams (Jason Mantzoukas), Thomas Edison (Olivia Munn), Paul Revere (Bobby Moynihan), and Geronimo (Raoul Trujillo). The main villain is traitor Benedict Arnold, who is satisfyingly despicable, thanks largely to Andy Samberg's scenery chewing.
Despite the poster showing a relatively diverse cast, the majority of the movie centers on "bros" George Washington and Sam Adams, with the latter in particular being obnoxiously bigoted. Martha Washington (Judy Greer) plays fifth business to the lead, first being a sexpot and then being used as his main motivation. Gender-bent Thomas Edison is a Chinese immigrant and the sole Asian character in the movie (with a speaking role). She is a scientist, feeding into the stereotype that Asian-Americans are "nerds." She is similarly underdeveloped, and unfortunately, often falls into the trappings of being the competent woman who is constantly undermined and frustrated by the idiot man-children she's forced to take care of. What's worse, every time Edison has the opportunity to do something meaningful in the movie, she either fails or another (male) character takes credit for her achievement. It's a wink to the audience about the gender imbalance in society today, but without any implicit condemnation to provoke a response or suggest change.
The other token characters, Geronimo and John Henry, are used mainly for further stereotypical jokes. There is an effort to point out systemic racism, but — like with the female characters' experiences of misogyny — the "jokes" about white male privilege are a little too celebratory. Geronimo is a vague caricature of an "Indian" whose actual history is ignored — so much so that the white characters not being able to name a Tribe is played for laughs (historically, he was Apache Nation). The blacksmith John Henry — the source of more than one embarrassingly out-of-touch joke — is barely recognizable as the folk hero, getting shockingly little to do in a story filled with epic, superpowered action scenes. The fact that Callaham's story invented fantastic abilities for its white lead and ignored the existing legends about the steel-driving Black American is upsetting. Yes, John Henry gets a few cool moments toward the end of the film, but it's too little, too late.
There's a lack of self-awareness throughout America: The Motion Picture that plagues the script. It's unfortunate because the performances are solid. The movie features a star-studded cast, and Forte, Samberg and Greer do the most they possibly could with the material they have. There are also plenty of genuinely funny moments and clever sight gags: John Wilkes selling merchandise out of a booth, and Lincoln's childhood treehouse being full of Lincoln Logs references — these are the kind of clever puns that encourage audiences to revisit the movie. However, the comedy overall is weighed down by an abundance of tired jokes that don't land. The British are thoroughly cliched: the Red Coats are both the most basic, ignorant form of British stereotypes and also analogs for the Empire in Star Wars. It's an odd choice for parody in the movie that is initially mildly amusing, but by the end, so overdone it's frustratingly repetitive.
America: The Motion Picture is gleefully inaccurate, mashing up obviously contemporary ideas into a steampunk fantasy of the past. It's strange that, in offering a revisionist history, screenwriter Callaham chose to embrace racism and misogyny. The concept is promising, and the violent delirium of the movie's visuals show that this could have been a fun, adrenaline-fueled romp. Instead, it's just an unfunny comedy that leaves a bad taste in one's mouth.
America: The Motion Picture is streaming on Netflix as of on June 30, 2021. It is 98 minutes long and features mature content.