ZOOLANDER 2 Like a glitter bomb to the brainstem.

I JUST WATCHED Zoolander 2, and now I'm sitting here trying to write about it, and I can barely remember a thing. I remember laughing, so that's a good sign. I'm not totally sure why I laughed, but also, I'm not sure that matters? Like, nobody can actually describe why orange mocha frappuccinos are good, but we accept that they are. This is the critical lens I am applying to Zoolander 2, which is a film about idiots, for idiots.

I'm not going to bother explaining the plot because if I try, I'll sound like I'm the one taking crazy pills. Also, who cares? All that Zoolander 2 wants to be is a movie for fans of the first Zoolander. It's not trying to do that awful thing where it recreates itself for a new generation, thank god. These are our familiar morons, and while there are 1,000 references to the original movie, it still leaves space for plenty of surprises and dumb new catchphrases. Also, just about every celebrity with an internet fanbase has a cameo, and they pop up so goddamn often that I'm sure I missed half of them. That was a little annoying, but again, no one cares.

I think the first Zoolander was so beloved because, at the time, it was unexpected, weird, and happy; it was a hit before Judd Apatow's man-children films put a lot of realness into our mainstream comedies. So I had a stupidly good time at Zoolander 2, because I liked seeing something so glossy and silly again. Zoolander 2 is a reminder that you don't have to see yourself, or your life, or your disappointing boyfriend onscreen to enjoy a movie. Like a glitter bomb to the brainstem, it will just make you dumber—but it'll be fun, and it will look really, really good, and sometimes, that's all that matters.