Yet another raunchy comedy in which everyone seems to be taking or dealing drugs, swearing like sailors, stripping for a living or willing to do anything for money.  The only interest this movie held for me was the casting of Jennifer Aniston as a stripper. For her stripping, I’ll plunk down my $11.

Alas, it was not to be.  Aniston is less sexy in this movie than any since she became a star.  Nor is the movie funny.  It is extreme, but not funny.  It is stupidly raunchy and incredibly profane, but not funny.  The only sequence I found funny at all was the kissing sequence, and that was because it was so sweet, and ended exactly as it was bound to do so.  Other than that, the film was simply tiresome.

As directed with no subtlety by Rawson Marshall Thurber, We’re the Millers goes for the obvious every single time.  “A smidge” of marijuana becomes enough to fill every space of an RV — and what happens to it all in later scenes when the “family” opens the spaces to remove dishes or whatever and it isn’t there?  The four disparate people who agree to transport the pot across the border disguised as a family eventually bond as a real family; who didn’t see that coming?

The comedy involving the “baby” is painful, and just hints at the tastelessness of the story.  Eventually things somehow work to a happy ending, which is just as silly and unbelievable as what has gone before.  This type of modern comedy is, at least to me, simply embarrassing when compared to movies of past decades.  It isn’t clever or fun, and it certainly isn’t worth watching.  Even Jennifer Aniston wiggling around in her undies isn’t enough to save it.  ☆ 1/2.  26 September 2013.