SNATCHED Cannibalism: the only option.

Do you follow Amy Schumer on Instagram? I do. Or I did. I stopped because she posted too many pictures of herself with Goldie Hawn filming a movie, being muddy in a jungle. I felt like I should groan, but could I barely muster a grunt. “White ladies in a brown land,” I thought. “I wonder if it will be racist?” And then I carried on with my life, because sometimes it’s easier to assume and there are a lot of other other crises on social media.

Then I saw Snatched, and it was fine. I chuckled. I don’t think there was a single joke about non-white dicks or rape. (Yes, our bar is too low.) It’s your basic mother/daughter caper about kidnapping and murder and boobs falling out of shirts, and just in time for Mother’s Day! Schumer plays Emily, whose hot boyfriend dumps her, and Goldie Hawn is her mom, Linda, who takes his spot on a dream vacation to Ecuador. There’s an implied backstory of Linda being overly critical and Emily being selfish. That Snatched doesn’t even bother diving into that speaks both negatively of the film for phoning it in, but also works—because we all know our parents are kinda disappointed in us, right? Why waste movie time hashing it all out? Who says movies need to be longer than 90 minutes anyway, especially when you’re seeing the movie on the night the president fired the director of the FBI and our democracy may very well be collapsing and it’s a struggle to close Twitter for any amount of time? ANYWAY.

Schumer can be A Lot, bordering on Too Much, and in Snatched, she’s just as vapid and ditzy and raunchy as usual, although aside from some mild jizz humor, everything here is relatively tame. It’s a mother/daughter movie that you can take your mother to and not have to avoid eye contact after. As a fatigued human existing in 2017, I was content to enjoy a short, B-minus of a movie like Snatched.