Cut from the same frayed cloth as The Hangover, Last Vegas is a raucous comedy about four sexagenarian friends, whose cosy existence unravels during a boozy stag weekend in the Nevada desert.
Underlying tensions bubble to the surface, marital secrets are finally aired and one of the pensionable posse stiffens his resolve when a buxom young thin offers herself to him.
The four old-timers also raise a glass to an army of scantily clad lovelies as unlikely judges of a poolside bikini competition compered by RedFoo, front man of electro-rap duo LMFAO.
Screenwriter Dan Fogelman, who previously penned Crazy, Stupid, Love and The Guilt Trip, certainly knows how to peddle lustful fantasy across the age divide. As one of the characters tartly surmises, this is “the first bachelor party that could be covered under Medicaid.”
Fogelman also delivers an array of snappy one-liners so while the plot of Last Vegas might creak with familiarity, the film packs more big laughs into 105 minutes than The Hangover shoehorned into an entire trilogy.