War on Everyone (2016)

War on Everyone is the kind of gleefully unruly crime comedy that feels like it’s been lit with a match and tossed into a desert gas station—loud, fast, and wickedly funny in the way only a movie with real nerve can be. It rides on infectious energy and a Tarantino-adjacent swagger, but what really sells it is the casting: two cops you wouldn’t trust with your coffee order, played with enough charm and bite that you can’t look away even as they behave atrociously. The film’s misanthropy is the point, a riot of bad behavior that turns mean-spirited into oddly cathartic, with slick production values keeping the chaos sharp rather than sloppy. If you’re allergic to dark humor or want heroes to root for, this will feel abrasive—but if you like your laughs served with venom and momentum, it’s an entertaining, nasty little treat.

War on Everyone is aiming for a nasty, anarchic buddy-cop romp where two morally bankrupt officers swagger through a crime story and dare you to laugh at how awful they are. The problem is it often mistakes shock and crassness for wit, piling on offensive, stereotype-heavy jokes and random detours that make the plot feel muddled rather than daring. When it tries to pivot into something darker and more “mysterious,” the beats can feel clichéd and the payoff doesn’t really earn the time you’ve invested. If you enjoy aggressively mean-spirited comedy and can tolerate a lot of ugliness for the occasional sharp moment and committed performances, you might get something out of it—but if you want coherent storytelling or humor with a point, this likely isn’t for you.