Originally this review was going to be the shortest review in memory.

Just one true sentence.

But I decided to expand it just a little.

‘Get him to the Greek’ is a continuation of the story of a secondary character from the comedy ‘Forgetting Sarah Marshall’. While the billing says one of its main stars is some fat guy (Jonah Hill). In reality this movie just stars; Russell Brand, Sean Combs and Colin Meanie, all supported by some fat guy.

I’ve never liked Russell Brand. Even the near show stealing turn in ‘Forgetting Sarah Marshall’ can’t change this. I just find him irritating. A hangover from his MTV days. There you are, of a Sunday morning, a drunken group of you trying to figure out a way to punch someone inside a television. This of course fails, and things lapse into the stoned fantasies of flying to Ibiza. Once there, you will wander around with a stupid grin on your face, and possibly a traffic cone. Waiting, watching until Brand and his crew make the mistake of approaching you.

Sometimes I imagine it like the bit in Evil Dead when everything goes from creepy to cock in frontal lobe mind fucked madness. The studio wouldn’t even be able to tell what was happening from the hideous inhuman screaming and bizarre inexplicable static interference on the camera. Sometimes it’s simple. Proper calm freaking, like the Green River Killer. Headbutted to a fine red mist. There would be nothing left. We’d burn whatever remained and salt the earth. Anyone who mentioned Him would be executed.

Nor have I ever liked Sean Combs. He wrecked Notorious B.I.G videos; the only black man with no rhythm, he wobbled and undulated there like the dork friend. Occasionally his atonal and somewhat nasal rapping voice would bimble in with something like “Yeah!” or “Money yeah!” “Bitchez yeah!” Completely wrecking the moment you were having with Biggie. You couldn’t help but cringe at the stereo in a way that silently and perhaps telepathically communicated to Biggie “Aww man why’d you have to bring that chump again”. To which, Biggie would stop and sigh with a shrug, explaining, “Sorry bro, but his mom knows my mom, forget it, he’s harmless. C’mon, you want to see how many oreos I can fit in my mouth?” And you would forget about it, because Biggie’s oreo trick always made you laugh so hard Cristal shot out your nose.

Perking up, you’d grin, laugh, slap Biggie some skin and always ask the same question, “Hey do you think we can trick Mase into the oreos versus saltines again?” And Biggie would laugh that rumble of his like hehehohohehaho and remind you about the last time and having to bring Mase to hospital for severe dehydration of the face.

They were good days, golden times your years with Biggie. Though you couldn’t ever settle, you were always looking over your shoulder. It wasn’t over some battle feud, no that wasn’t your style. Yet you were edgy, like some sort of chronic-ed up, crack head Obi-Wan, you could feel a disturbance in the force. Not too far off, it was coming, a bad break on the hiphop horizon.

Him.

The faux Victorian fop, who not only suffers from delusions of humor but seems to have misheard the point on his presence being welcome.

He would soon be on our televisions, galavanting about like some sort of lobotomized Springheel Jack.

Yet in ‘Get him to the Greek’, Russell Brand and Sean Combs shine. They are comedic gold. I don’t know whether it is the material, some strange alignment of stars, but they own the film, from start to finish.

And that one sentence?

‘Get him to the Greek’, I laughed so hard I threw up.