A Wednesday release is odd enough.
But a 12% score amongst top critics on Rotten Tomatoes?
Heavens to Murgatroyd! Things don’t look good.
Now then. Are you sitting down?
Whenever someone asks for my thoughts on Breaking Bad or The Wire, my response is always the same: “I haven’t seen an episode, but I’m sure I’d love it.”
Yet for some reason, folks don’t extend the same courtesy to New Girl. Blowhards and contrarians love to dismiss it, but the truth is—it’s one of the best comedic series in recent television.
So why bring this up? Because anyone who enjoys the New Girl brand of humor will likely get a kick out of Let’s Be Cops.
In fact, the subject matter feels pulled from the same barrel. The exposition is lightning-fast, while the pacing and tone mirror the sitcom almost exactly.
For context: Jake Johnson and Damon Wayans Jr.—two of the lead actors from New Girl—headline LBC. Their characters don’t differ much between the big and small screens, which is part of the charm.
To be clear, you don’t need to be a New Girl fan to enjoy the movie. But it helps to be familiar with their specific comedic rhythm.
One might even call this 22½ Jump Street.
At its heart, it’s a self-aware buddy-cop satire that takes jabs at the entertainment industry and genre tropes.
However, things quickly go off the rails. The narrative is noticeably disjointed, and from a technical standpoint, Let’s Be Cops struggles as a cohesive film.
This becomes evident right from the start: The protagonists sum up their lives in two sentences during a pillowy introduction. Then, just as Johnson encourages Wayans to approach a girl at the bar, the scene abruptly cuts to their post-rejection curbside lament as the valet pulls up.
It’s very odd. And unfortunately, moments like that occur throughout.
Perhaps the budget ran dry. Since Box Office Mojo doesn’t list the production cost, we can assume it wasn’t very high.
In many ways, the film asks a lot of its viewers. Johnson is constantly driving across lawns, as if the writers thought every chaotic moment would land.
Stylistically, it’s uneven. The editing feels clumsy. The camerawork is incongruous. The plot’s thin, the logic’s absurd, and the set design barely registers.
Then again, occasionally, the direction and camerawork surprise you. The filmmakers put slow motion to smart use in several scenes, and the incorporation of social media stands out as genuinely creative.
Even so, none of that really matters.
Because Johnson and Wayans are spectacular as a comedic duo. Their banter is relentless—hilarities overlap, with one punchline bleeding into the next before the first even lands. It’s a rapid-fire rhythm that works.
Narratively, the film feels like a dense jungle canopy of stupidity. Creative rays poke through here and there, but they’re few and far between.
To its credit, LBC tries to say something. It contrasts how pop culture fantasizes violence—through video games, movies, TV shows like COPS, and so on.
Each beat seems to aim at breaking convention by fully leaning into cliché. Neo-satire, if you will—a self-aware play on formulaic formatting.
Meanwhile, the supporting cast brings real energy. Rob Riggle is surprisingly subdued and effective.
Keegan-Michael Key brings the laughs in a chaotic supporting role. Natasha Leggero steals her brief scenes, and James D’Arcy crushes it as the villain.
Oddly enough, one of the most heavily advertised lines from the trailer never made it into the final cut—and honestly, thank God. It was funny in the preview but would’ve dragged in context.
Make sure to stick around for the early part of the credits—there’s some bonus footage worth seeing.
Let’s Be Cops may be imperfect, but for everything it lacks editorially, it makes up for it in sheer, uproarious laughter.
Think of it this way: A Million Ways to Die in the West trips on peyote, Neighbors does mushrooms, 22 Jump Street goes full Wy-Fy (basically acid), and Let’s Be Cops rounds off the summer by smoking crystal meth.
Let’s hope Harry and Lloyd away from heroin in D&DTo.
★★ ★★★ ★★
Briefer takes on IMDb & Letterboxd.
