The 1980s and ’90s were an era of shameless absurdity that defined comedy; an era that now feels like a relic. With films like Airplane!, Hot Shots!, Loaded Weapon 1, and of course, The Naked Gun trilogy, comedies were unafraid to be silly, fast-paced, and packed with zany, joke-a-minute humor. While the genre hasn’t disappeared entirely, its once-thriving reliance on sharp parody, novelty, and manic timing has mostly faded.
Enter Akiva Schaffer. His Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping proved he had the chops to deliver a welcome throwback and a reminder of how modern comedies have drifted from their once-wild roots. While The Naked Gun re-entering the cinematic stratosphere was not on my bingo card, I was cautiously optimistic. What I didn’t expect was for the film to be one of the most audacious comedies in years; one that evoked the biggest laughs of any press screening I’ve ever attended.
Schaffer’s The Naked Gun is a breath of fresh air in modern comedy. Genuinely hilarious, blissfully brief, and a pitch-perfect homage to Leslie Nielsen’s ’80s comedy classic—without ever feeling like a tired cover band. Never playing it safe, it follows the golden rule: be funny and get out, all while sticking the landing (and the credits).
The Naked Gun returns to the chaotic world of Police Squad, now with a new face at the helm: Frank Drebin Jr., son of the legendary detective. Following the events of a bank job, Drebin is pulled off the case, only to realize that the car accident he’s just been assigned to is connected to the heist. As he weaves through a series of unique characters, he encounters Beth Davenport and Richard Cane, discovering an unexpected connection between the individuals and both crimes.
Co-writers Doug Mand, Dan Gregor, and Schaffer craft a screenplay that pays reverence to the comedies of yesteryear and the original Naked Gun franchise. What’s most effective about their script is that it never feels like a tired, cash-grab legacy sequel. Instead, it plays like a genuine continuation of the series. Rather than recycling greatest hits, their screenplay offers a welcome new entry for a new generation.
The gags come fast and heavy, packed with quotable lines about “man’s laughter,” toilets begging for the brown, and moments with man’s best friend that feel like the comedic peak of screenplay absurdity. At just 80 minutes, the laughs come fast and furious, with only the intensity of laughter varying from scene to scene. The one drawback is that if you’re not already on board with this brand of humor, the film isn’t likely to win you over. It plays unapologetically to fans of the series and this style of comedy.
As with Leslie Nielsen, Liam Neeson was born for comedic roles of this nature. Proving he’s game for anything, Neeson delivers a pitch-perfect comedic performance. Using his gravitas, he anchors the chaos with a sincerity that makes every ridiculous line even funnier—a true testament to his comedic instincts. Matching Neeson toe to toe is Pamela Anderson, who slips seamlessly into the film’s femme fatale role. Bringing a self-aware charm, Anderson and Neeson create a delightful symphony of laughs with their goofy and endearing chemistry, perfectly capturing the spirit of the franchise while giving it a modern twist.
While Liam Neeson and Pamela Anderson rightfully command the spotlight, The Naked Gun is packed with supporting turns and clever cameos that add to the film’s chaotic charm. Among the standouts are Paul Walter Hauser and WWE superstar Cody Rhodes, whose apperances leave a lasting impression. Hauser brings a scene-stealing energy to every moment he shares with Neeson, effortlessly blending deadpan delivery with the film’s absurdity. Meanwhile, Rhodes may only have a brief cameo, but he makes the most of it. His charisma and timing channel the same larger than life presence that’s made him a weekly highlight on WWE television.
In a cinematic landscape where comedies often play it safe or get lost in the algorithm, The Naked Gun feels like a small miracle. A film unafraid to be gloriously dumb, smart about its stupidity, and reverent without being derivative. Schaffer and company don’t just revive a beloved franchise, they resurrect a style of humor that’s been desperately missed. If this is what a modern parody can look like, sign me up for more.
