On paper, a Naked Gun reboot seemed a bad idea. For one, the three-film franchise spawned from the silly TV series Police Squad relied heavily on the straight-faced buffoonery of Leslie Nielsen, who died 15 years ago. For another, this film series reveled in spoof and parody, a brand of humor that has fallen largely out of fashion since the 2000s-era boom of films like Scary Movie, Not Another Teen Movie, Epic Movie, and so on.
Beyond that, The Naked Gun's premise is potentially problematic: a shoot-first-ask-questions-never cop who doesn't play by the rules and is idiotic, violent, and catastrophic in his pursuit of a criminal. In 1988, when the first film premiered, Nielsen's Frank Drebin played as a much-needed parody to all the action films that regarded such cowboy cops as white-hat heroes. Today, when the discourse on police brutality has grown by leaps and bounds, could such a premise still play?
Turns out, yes. Incredibly, 2025's The Naked Gun rivals its predecessors in hilarity, outrageousness, and sharp-shooter precision toward its comedic targets. This is thanks in no small part to Liam Neeson. No stranger to playing cops, Neeson takes on the mantle of detective Frank Drebin Jr., the son of Nielsen’s character. Just as this Frank yearns to make his predecessor proud, Neeson walks confidently in the footsteps of Nielsen, who laid down pitch-perfect parody with Police Squad!, The Naked Gun, and Airplane! However, Neeson isn't tasked with shouldering such lunacy alone. His costar, the Priscilla Presley to his Leslie Nielsen, is Pamela Anderson, who brilliantly channels her legendary sex appeal into a sensual and silly femme fatale.
Together, they are a dream team, sure to make summer audiences scream with laughter.
The Naked Gun takes aim at tech bros.
Who better to employ as the comically evil villain of a Naked Gun movie than a billionaire who sells electric cars with a world-conquering agenda? And who better than Danny Huston, master of the menacing smile, to play tech magnate Richard Cane?
When an engineer turns up dead at the bottom of a cliff in a flashy electric car, Frank and Police Squad, a special department of the LAPD, are on the case. Along the way, Frank meets Beth Davenport, the kind of curvy dame who inspires lusty voiceover narration and gloriously goofy romantic tangents involving a sentient, sex-positive snowman. Beth is the surviving sister of the suspiciously dead man, but also she's a true crime writer. So she feels uniquely suited to help Frank investigate Richard's involvement in her brother's demise. But can love and justice mix?
Liam Neeson and Pamela Anderson are ridiculously funny in The Naked Gun.
It’s impossible not to compare Neeson’s take on this very familiar character to Nielsen’s. But incredibly, the Northern Irish actor, who has long been an action hero and a dramatic actor, stands up well in the comparison. Just as Nielsen played the silliest jokes with a straight face, Neeson brings the gravitas of years of glowering into this role with a deliriously funny stoicism.
He speaks in a grumble, which makes his idiotic observations all the more hilarious. And when he occasionally breaks from this paradoxical sternness, it is somehow even funnier. For instance, when Frank misunderstands a social cue, thinking the person who's addressed him is saying his own name is Frank Drebin, the top cop eagerly gasps, "Me too!" And the abrupt change in demeanor is inarguably giggle-inducing.
Props to Lonely Island member Akiva Schaffer, who expertly helms the humor of The Naked Gun. He got Neeson to commit to a big ask. Alongside ludicrous lines, Neeson also embraces physical comedy, some onscreen nudity, and scatalogical humor that could risk eroding his untouchable tough guy persona. Instead, the shaking up of that persona is the special sauce that makes this hit even harder than his comedic cop turns in The Lego Movie and Derry Girls.
As for Anderson, she spoofs splendidly, particularly with a Naked Gun-style musical performance that involves some of the most confounding scatting in human history. Adding oomph to the relentless onslaught of jokes — that had New York critics (a notoriously hard-to-impress lot!) cackling throughout the film runtime — are solid supporting players Paul Walter Hauser, Kevin Durand, CCH Pounder, Liza Koshy, and a barrage of chaotic cameo appearances that I won't spoil here.
The Naked Gun is back and just what fans will want.
While this Naked Gun offers fewer straight-up parodies than the first three films, it’s nonetheless hysterical. Screenwriters Schaffer, Dan Gregor, and Doug Mand deliver a mix of jokes that ranges from the taboo (like a bit about Bill Cosby’s personal wine stash) to the zany to slyly cerebral wordplay about "manslaughter." With such a variety of punchlines, the hits keep coming, even if not all of them land. Audiences will laugh in theaters like they haven’t in years. This, at long last, is a laugh riot fit to be seen in theaters with a crowd.
The Naked Gun is not only funny, it’s exhilarating because — to quote the parody king "Weird Al" Yankovic (who appears in the original three movies) — it "dare(s) to be stupid." There’s a thrilling bravery in embracing such willfully dumb humor, and doing so in a way that doesn’t punch down. Schaffer and company's keen awareness about who gets to be the butt of the jokes makes The Naked Gun feel modern, even as it keeps in signature bits that could risk feeling dated — like the finale freeze frame — but instead feel timeless.
Simply put, The Naked Gun is back and as silly and stupid as ever. And I can’t think of higher praise than that.
