I can still remember my friend, the one with the "Vegas, Baby, Vegas!" poster positioned proudly above his bed, rushing into my dorm room some time in 2001 to announce the existence of Jon Favreau's Made: "Dude, it's like Swingers, but with gangster shit!" Though the film would later prove itself less mind-blowing that I'd hoped, the idea of any sort of Swingers continuation was pretty great at that point in my life. It wasn't a Star Wars prequel, but it was something.
So today, let me be your college friend announcing the next somewhat disappointing pseudo-sequel to Swingers, Couples Retreat: Dudes, it's like Swingers! Except now they're middle-aged and in depressing, loveless marriages filled with countless infidelities! And they're friends with Jason Bateman:
I feel like this is sort of tailored for married couples, but also the kind of thing that, if I were married, I would never want to watch with my spouse. Like how when I was a kid, I hated being with my family and watching that episode of Roseanne where DJ's constant use of the bathroom led the family to suspect him of masturbating. A viewing experience is never that enjoyable when the content makes you fearful of being suspected of something.