I didn't laugh once at Sex Tape. And I'm not alone. Everyone, seemingly, hates Sex Tape. How is a movie about two rich fuckers—a mommy-blogger and a man vaguely employed in the music industry somehow—who give out iPads to their friends, family, and acquaintances like candy on Halloween even remotely accessible to a mainstream movie-going audience? Who cares about these idiots and their rich-people problems, with their willingness to buy all the newest, shiniest Apple products, but without a desire to understand even the most basic rules of how computers work? (It is an Apple commercial, make no mistake, and the characters stop the story repeatedly to gush about the iPad's sturdy construction and excellent resolution and amazing camera.) Who cares about their boring friends (Ellie Kemper and Rob Corddry, two of the most talented, and poorly used, comedic supporting actors in the business right now) or their CEO boss who lives in huge mansion but—get this—listens to hiphop! (That's Rob Lowe, who is the closest thing to a bright spot in this darkest midnight of the soul.) This movie parades everything that everyone hates about white people around on screen for ninety minutes and pretends to be a professional movie made by professional human beings. What it is, is an embarrassment. by Paul Constant