Nearly a decade after Shane Black’s The Nice Guys became a cult favorite, its unlikely duo barrels back into theaters with The Nice Guys 2. Ryan Gosling and Russell Crowe return as bumbling PI Holland March and bruiser-for-hire Jackson Healy, proving once again that disaster-prone detectives can still outwit criminals — if only by accident. This sequel doesn’t reinvent the wheel, but it spins it fast, loud, and with an irresistible sense of fun.
The film wastes no time throwing March and Healy into the deep end. A high-profile disappearance quickly spirals into a conspiracy involving corrupt officials, city-wide cover-ups, and more shady figures than you can count. True to form, the two can barely keep their lives together, let alone their investigation. And yet, somehow, they stumble toward the truth — half by incompetence, half by sheer dumb luck.
Ryan Gosling once again proves his comedic timing is second to none. His Holland March is equal parts hapless, neurotic, and endearing, bumbling through shootouts with wild-eyed panic and delivering deadpan one-liners that land as both pathetic and hilarious. He’s the man who can barely light a cigarette without starting a disaster — and that’s exactly why you root for him.
Russell Crowe’s Jackson Healy remains the perfect foil: a gruff, world-weary enforcer with fists like sledgehammers and patience stretched thin. Crowe leans into the physicality of the role, grounding the chaos with a mix of menace and reluctant empathy. Where Gosling flails, Crowe steadies — but together, their mismatched energy is dynamite.
What sets The Nice Guys 2 apart is the sheer joy of watching these two bounce off each other. Their banter is sharp, fast, and laced with an undercurrent of warmth. Whether they’re bickering over bar tabs, interrogating suspects with questionable methods, or arguing mid-car chase, the chemistry is undeniable. The film thrives not on its mystery, but on the absurd, glorious mess that is March and Healy’s partnership.
The action sequences strike a balance between thrilling and ridiculous. Car chases crash into absurdity, shootouts spiral into slapstick, and the duo’s survival feels like divine accident rather than skill. One standout moment involves March accidentally saving their lives by fainting at the exact right time. These gags never undermine the stakes; instead, they make the danger all the more entertaining.
Tonally, the film doubles down on the blend of noir grit and slapstick comedy that made the first one so distinctive. Neon-lit bars, smoky backrooms, and corrupt boardrooms provide the backdrop, but the mood is constantly undercut by March’s haplessness and Healy’s exasperation. It’s a love letter to pulp detective stories wrapped in comedy’s warm embrace.
If there’s a weak spot, it’s the mystery itself. The central scandal, while serviceable, doesn’t quite reach the layered complexity of the first film’s plot. Some twists feel predictable, and the villains lack the punch to stand out. Yet the narrative exists more as a playground for the duo than as a labyrinth to be solved — and on that front, the film more than delivers.
Visually, the film sharpens its period detail. From shag-carpet interiors to gaudy billboards, the city feels like a living time capsule, saturated with both glamour and grime. The soundtrack doubles down on retro flair, filling chase scenes and awkward silences alike with era-perfect tunes that amplify the offbeat energy.
What lingers most, however, isn’t the corruption or the case, but the friendship at its core. Beneath the insults, eye-rolls, and bar brawls lies a genuine bond between March and Healy. They may be catastrophes in human form, but together, they create something unexpectedly heroic. The “nice guys” moniker may be ironic, but it’s also earned: they care, in their own chaotic way.
The Nice Guys 2 isn’t tighter, darker, or smarter than the original — but it doesn’t need to be. It’s funnier, louder, and just as endearing, cementing March and Healy as one of cinema’s great odd couples. In a world full of slick detectives, sometimes it’s the screwups who leave the biggest mark.
