Michael Bay’s American Nightmare: Bad Boys II at… | Little White Lies

In Praise Of

Michael Bay’s Amer­i­can Night­mare: Bad Boys II at 20

09 Oct 2023

Two men in casual clothing standing before an American flag backdrop.
Two men in casual clothing standing before an American flag backdrop.
Two decades on, Michael Bay’s nihilis­tic, hyper-vio­lent police dra­ma serves as a state of the union address.

As Michael Bay spreads his name across a low-angle shot of a cross being engulfed in flame, it’s clear he knows his place in sac­ri­le­gious cin­e­ma. Bad Boys II (2003) is a con­fronta­tion­al exer­cise that scorch­es all it indulges in. Acidic excess pins the audi­ence with­in their most vul­gar impuls­es and cre­ates a potent post‑9/​11 spec­ta­cle. Eight years after the events of Bad Boys (1995), Mia­mi PD detec­tives Mike Low­ery (Will Smith) and Mar­cus Bur­nett (Mar­tin Lawrence) are hot on the trail of an ecsta­sy smug­gling oper­a­tion that spans from the KKK to a vicious Cuban drug Lord, also involv­ing the Russ­ian Mafia and Hait­ian Zoe Pound Gang.

Bad Boys II hates both human­i­ty and its sub­jects. Accord­ing to Michael Bay’s film, every human being on earth is cor­rupt, venge­ful, and will­ing to vio­late at least half of the Ten Com­mand­ments. Pride brims for its dynam­ic duo despite their flaws (obscene­ly exces­sive force, for one) and under­stands their dri­ves (ani­mos­i­ty and frag­ile mas­culin­i­ty). In a movie full of explo­sions, Will Smith and Mar­tin Lawrence are dyna­mite, able to car­ry exten­sive acer­bic con­ver­sa­tion. A scram­bled mess of mud­dled pro­ce­dure and tan­gen­tial ties, the plot only becomes fur­ther inco­her­ent as it unfolds instead of gain­ing any sort of clar­i­ty. Bad Boys II is about destruc­tion and derange­ment, not cre­ation, so it rides with the Boys and lays waste to every­thing else.

The sat­u­rat­ed neon dimen­sion­al views dis­ori­ent with the camera’s move­ment, flush with col­or so vivid it feels as if it will drip off the screen. Unlike oth­er action direc­tors who estab­lish space and posi­tion firm­ly with­in a scene’s scope, Bay uses rapid-fire shot suc­ces­sion at vary­ing expres­sive angles and dis­tances with­in the locale, inset by break­neck edit­ing. This tech­nique caus­es eye move­ment to con­stant­ly shift from every point of the screen, briefly grasp­ing the envi­ron­ment, before dis­tort­ing it.

In one of the most gra­tu­itous scenes in a gra­tu­itous film, cars are thrown from a trans­port truck. The cam­era is attached to the hoods of the cars or chains them­selves, mak­ing the visu­al points whip and faze. The point of view is from cars launched into chaot­ic destruc­tion, met­al crush­ing met­al, mechan­i­cal struc­tures col­laps­ing into each oth­er. At one point, a police car is flung direct­ly into a cam­era, caus­ing it to vio­lent­ly roll and land face down, pho­tograph­ing the crevices in the asphalt.

In estab­lish­ing this point of view, one could assume that Bay is active­ly destroy­ing the view­er, or at least scrap­ing them up a bit, throw­ing them head­first into this may­hem. In anoth­er jar­ring dis­play of tech­ni­cal excess, Mike (Smith) stands on one side of a wall, gang­sters on the oth­er. The cam­era swings in a revolv­ing motion, pass­ing through the dou­ble doors on either side of the wall sep­a­rat­ing these duel­ing indi­vid­u­als, encir­cling the sub­jects. It’s a dizzy­ing pre­lude to Bay’s mod­ern inter­est in swoop­ing, daz­zling, and dar­ing drone use in some of his recent films, most notably Ambu­lance (2022).

Two police officers wearing police uniforms, one speaking on a mobile phone.

The film’s blis­ter­ing obscen­i­ty is bla­tant­ly racist, misog­y­nis­tic, and homo­pho­bic at times. So unen­light­ened in its rea­son­ing and deploy­ment of these ideals that it aligns with the base nature of the film itself. Any and all approach­es to address ingrained hos­til­i­ty are mocked. As a tac­tic meant to reduce anger in the heat of a moment, the made-up mantra, woosah” is used repeat­ed­ly as comedic relief. Even a small attempt to man­age the tox­i­c­i­ty in which the Boys are embed­ded is fod­der for a joke. A sec­ond car chase involves a van loaded with bloat­ed cadav­ers which are thrown from the vehi­cle as obsta­cles, a grotesque gag. The one woman in the film, Syd (Gabrielle Union), is treat­ed as an object to be bick­ered over and ulti­mate­ly won.

Bad Boys II is a demon­stra­tion of exces­sive force, both artis­ti­cal­ly and ide­o­log­i­cal­ly. A post‑9/​11 response in an era where the war on for­eign enti­ties infil­trat­ing civ­i­lized Amer­i­can soci­ety called for unciv­i­lized tac­tics. A time when ends always jus­ti­fy means. The absur­di­ty of this mil­i­ta­rized mind­set is exem­pli­fied by the ridicu­lous extremes and abun­dant casu­al­ties left in the wake of these two offi­cers. Michael Bay is known for explo­sive Amer­i­can spec­ta­cle. His films often involve the US mil­i­tary or police in fan­tas­ti­cal, hero­ic demon­stra­tions of force.

Tak­en at face val­ue, it is endorse­ment or pow­er­ful pro­pa­gan­da. But per­haps unin­ten­tion­al­ly, Bad Boys II becomes an indict­ment of police mil­i­ta­riza­tion. The Boys chase Cuban drug lord John­ny Tapia (Jor­di Mol­là) across Guan­tanamo in the finale. While cre­at­ing a film that serves as a warn­ing for out­siders invad­ing domes­tic soil, Bay bor­rows” a famous stunt from a for­eign film whole­sale. In a scene stolen direct­ly from the Hong Kong action film, Police Sto­ry (1985), the Boys destroy a hill­side res­i­dence by dri­ving direct­ly over the homes, crush­ing them in their osten­ta­tious yel­low Hum­mer. A one-take feat back in 1985 is recy­cled here as domes­tic heroes lit­er­al­ly crush­ing the lives of for­eign peoples.

All of this leads to a stand­off at none oth­er than Guan­tanamo Bay. Land­mines and guards occu­py the edges of the screen with our heroes, wield­ing auto­mat­ic rifles, cen­tered in front of a silo adorned with US NAVY”. It is one of the most explic­it­ly reac­tionary films to emerge imme­di­ate­ly post‑9/​11, but so sin­cere in its depic­tion of that sin­gu­lar tem­pera­ment at the time. In ret­ro­spect, it is a show­case of the high-alert mind­set that had set­tled among the Amer­i­can pub­lic in the after­math of destruc­tive, large-scale tragedy.

Bad Boys II becomes so monot­o­nous in its styl­is­tic and ide­o­log­i­cal extrem­i­ty, yet man­ages to sur­prise at every exhaus­tive turn. The chaos buoys an exten­sive exer­tion of action filmmaking’s capac­i­ty for vul­gar inno­va­tion. For those of us who rev­el in Bay’s caus­tic syrup, we wear our­selves out and drown among the wreckage.

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