Martin Lawrence could be considered a talented man, but those days are long gone. Runteldat shows a man who at once tries to play the sympathy card to his plight yet takes responsibility for it whenever he thinks it'll benefit his ego. The sad truth is that at this point in his life, his best days were behind him: his half-funny show was dead in the water after his co-star left and to today he faces a career of voice acting and god awful action films.
One gets the impression that this concert film wasn't made to give Lawrence's career another boost after his humiliation but rather a childish attempt to clear the air by both trying to pathetically salvage what remained of his life and somehow twist it into something to be proud of, some defining moment in which he showed himself to have 'earned' his fame. Sadly, the concert is nothing but a gravelly-voiced Martin incoherently trying to be funny, invoke pathos, and then claim he doesn't care about it at all because hardcore. The sad truth is that this is the real public embarrassment for Lawrence: the way he rambles on invoking sad pity laughter makes you wish that he would just strip down to his underwear on stage, wave a gun around, and just reenact it all over again. There is no real insight to his performance at all. Much like the childish title states, Martin is trying to make his ultimate moment of truth his own in his way and fails miserably. He would have been better off waiting for the E! True Hollywood Story instead of running on a stage and making an idiot out of himself for the second time.
Perhaps the saddest thing about this concert film--or rather, career eulogy--is that Martin didn't put any thought into this. What was this film supposed to prove? Sadly, that his fame was fleeting, he was a flash in the pan before the underwear incident, and now that the only way he can get work is piggybacking Will Smith or a Pixar production. They might as well called this concert 'Tombstone' because that's what it is. Martin Lawrence just dies on stage here, and with it goes what could have been an interesting career. Now? Just a pathetic side note in history.
One gets the impression that this concert film wasn't made to give Lawrence's career another boost after his humiliation but rather a childish attempt to clear the air by both trying to pathetically salvage what remained of his life and somehow twist it into something to be proud of, some defining moment in which he showed himself to have 'earned' his fame. Sadly, the concert is nothing but a gravelly-voiced Martin incoherently trying to be funny, invoke pathos, and then claim he doesn't care about it at all because hardcore. The sad truth is that this is the real public embarrassment for Lawrence: the way he rambles on invoking sad pity laughter makes you wish that he would just strip down to his underwear on stage, wave a gun around, and just reenact it all over again. There is no real insight to his performance at all. Much like the childish title states, Martin is trying to make his ultimate moment of truth his own in his way and fails miserably. He would have been better off waiting for the E! True Hollywood Story instead of running on a stage and making an idiot out of himself for the second time.
Perhaps the saddest thing about this concert film--or rather, career eulogy--is that Martin didn't put any thought into this. What was this film supposed to prove? Sadly, that his fame was fleeting, he was a flash in the pan before the underwear incident, and now that the only way he can get work is piggybacking Will Smith or a Pixar production. They might as well called this concert 'Tombstone' because that's what it is. Martin Lawrence just dies on stage here, and with it goes what could have been an interesting career. Now? Just a pathetic side note in history.