Revisiting the Hangover Trilogy

I made the mistake of rewatching the Hangover trilogy recently. Not out of nostalgia or anything, but because they were there on Netflix staring at me like half-eaten leftovers about to spoil.

The first Hangover movie? It hit like a shot of golden grain on an empty stomach. It was better than it had any right to be. The pacing, mystery, escalating chaos… lightning in a bottle. “Stu’s Song” was awkward, dumb, and somehow perfect. I still remember the lyrics to this day.

The second Hangover didn’t just try to recapture that magic; it tried to photocopy it. Same structure, same gags, same beats. Stu even has another song at almost the same runtime. It felt flat. Not offensively bad. Just forgettable in that quiet, hollow way only lazily repeated art can be. The kind of movie you realize you’ve already seen halfway through watching it again.

The problem with chasing lightning is no two storms are the same.

The first movie had discovery on its side. Discovery of the characters, the world, the stakes, the comedy, the tone. Everything landed because you didn’t see it coming. By the second film, you’d seen it all before. Literally. The novelty evaporated, replaced by a corporate mandate to “do the exact same thing… But in Bangkok.”

It’s the cinematic equivalent of a band writing a hit song, then making twelve watered-down versions of it because the label said, “More of that, please.”

Lightning isn’t a formula. It’s an accident. A perfect collision of timing, creativity, and low expectations. That’s why I remember the first Hangover song… and can’t recall a single note from the second.

The third movie? I barely remember it enough to criticize. That’s how forgettable it was. At least the second was committed to being a clone. The third felt like a contractual obligation filmed between naps.

Somewhere along the line, the studio, the writers, whoever, got terrified of risk. They stumbled upon success and their first instinct wasn’t to explore, but to exploit. We crave new. We crave the unknown. But the industry keeps serving us the same old shit thinking if they give us exactly what we liked last time, we’ll be happy.

But we aren’t. Not even close.