 If the 2012 film 21 Jump Street was less a remake of the earnest late ‘80s cop show than a good-natured goof on it, the sequel, 22 Jump Street, goes even further in the direction of unrealism: It’s full-bore camp — a buddy-cop burlesque. But directors Phil Lord and Christopher Miller — who did the last "Jump Street" movie, as well as the sublimely superior "The Lego Movie" — keep it moving and occasionally weird (with a giddy drug trip, and a split-screen idea that seems like a nod to, of all things, "Pillow Talk"). All of this is funny (and proof again of the quiet career intelligence of Tatum, who knows when it's smart to play dumb, and is canny enough to acknowledge some cross-gender appeal.) Undercover detectives Jonah Hill (Schmidt) and Channing Tatum (Jenko) are two years older, which means they’re unlikely college kids instead of unlikely high schoolers. This time, they set out to trace the origin of a designer drug that’s wacking kids out. But 22 Jump Street is the type of movie in which before you can say, “It’s a repeat of last time!” Hill says, “It’s a repeat of last time!” and both Nick Offerman (as “Deputy Chief Hardy") and Ice Cube (as the prodigiously surly “Captain Dickson”) give nudge-nudge-wink-wink speeches on the subject of the task force’s bigger budget. The directors and screenwriters (three credited: Michael Bacall, Oren Uziel, and Rodney Rothman, with Bacall and Jonah Hill getting a nod for the “story,” such as it is) presume the audience reads box-office reports and is schooled in the idea of the almighty Hollywood “franchise.” They get to poke fun at sequels and simultaneously make sequel money, which is a great frigging gig if you ask me. Exactly when does joking about how all sequels are just lame, repetitive cash-grabs start to suggest that maybe yours is.
– Channing Tatum and Jonah Hill are back as partners-in-crime-fighting in 22 Jump Street, but rather than go undercover as high-schoolers to infiltrate a drug ring, this time around they're going undercover as college students. How does the sequel stand up to the first installment? Read on. "That Stoner No. 3 from Knocked Up and the tank top from Step Up have become Hollywood’s freshest comedy duo is impressive," writes Courtney Shea at the Globe and Mail. "That they’re keeping it fresh in a sequel is ... close to a cinematic miracle." The writing is clever and the stars' chemistry is "awesomeness." The film pokes "its R-rated finger" at everything from sequels to its stars. It's "a solidly implausible story, sight gags galore, endless jokes for the two new freshmen to go sophomoric, all unfolding at breakneck speed," writes Betsy Sharkey for the Los Angeles Times. Put it all together and it's a "a raucous, raunchy, irreverent, imperfect riot." Oh, and keep an eye out for the scene-stealing Jillian Bell. As David Edelstein writes at Vulture, "They get to poke fun at sequels and simultaneously make sequel money, which is a great frigging gig if you ask me." The first half "had my preview audience in stitches," though Edelstein wasn't as entertained. "But either the movie got better or I got worn down." He praises Bell, too, and notes "the ultrameta epilogue (no spoilers) is irresistible—it sends you home on a cloud." But Stephen Whitty at the Star-Ledger finds missteps and notes the sequel jokes are only "mildly amusing." The film's best idea "is to tease out the gay subtext barely buried in Hollywood's new bromantic comedies." Overall, "sarcasm is fine in small doses. But when you really start pumping irony, sometimes the meta just gets, well—meh."