The Hangover may well have been the last great Hollywood comedy. I can remember sitting in the theater when it was released in 2009 with no idea what I was watching, ready for none of the kinetic chaos of the unfettered shenanigans of these immature idiots in over their heads in Vegas (or later, other locales). Watching Phil and Stu and Alan (and to a lesser extent, Doug) try to knit together the threads of a night lost to booze and drugs and bad decisions is the height of voyeuristic hilarity. Between stealing Mike Tyson's tiger and marrying a stripper and misplacing their soon-to-be-married buddy, the boys engaged in hijinks that should have had permanent consequences.
And yet somehow, because this is a movie, they manage to get it together by the final credits. Though, in fairness, there are some lasting consequences, which only makes it a more fun journey to tag along with. Generally it's Stu bearing the brunt of these, from the aforementioned exotic nuptials to liberation from his toxic relationship back home to the facial tattoo in later films. And Alan, well, Alan (as portrayed by Zach Galifianakis) is such a weird, stunted little creature that the entire thing is consequences for him. But Phil? The middle-school teacher with the turned up collar and shades, Bradley Cooper-handsome and effortlessly cool? Phil somehow manages to skate through, taking his punches like the others and yet largely untraumatized. It's like at the end of Ghostbusters when the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man explodes and everyone gets covered in apocalyptic melted white goo. Then Bill Murray's Venkman comes out with just a little bit in his hair.
That's Phil. He rarely loses his cool, the default leader of the feckless Wolfpack, his faith and optimism largely durable. You get the sense things have always just sort of worked out for him, and he expects that to continue. So when the film reaches the point where Phil starts to panic, well, you know things are really bad. Yeah, Phil. You fucked up. And we love to watch it.
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