In 2010, recordings were released of the devout Christian screaming racist abuse and threatening to burn down the house where his ex-girlfriend lived with his young daughter.
As this was only four years after a drunken, anti-Semitic tirade at a policeman it was widely assumed Gibson’s career as an entertainer was over.
Yet, here he is spreading Yuletide cheer in a festive, family comedy. The subject: parenting! Now I see why Harvey Weinstein is so confident he can rebuild his career.
Unfortunately, the casting is the only ambitious thing about this lazy sequel. The sporadically amusing original was built on the rivalry between macho Dusty (Mark Wahlberg) and Brad (Will Ferrell), an emotional modern man who was helping to raise Dusty’s children.
After the schmaltzy ending, they’ve worked out a way to share parenting duties as “co-dads”.
But old resentments resurface, and old jokes are reheated, when two new fathers enter the equation.
John Lithgow is soppy old Don, a retired postman who greets his son Brad with a lingering kiss on the lips.
But it’s a manly slap on the back for Dusty from Kurt (Gibson), the womanising, gun-loving astronaut who was absent for much of Dusty’s childhood.
The flabby story that develops is fairly predictable: as they are cooped up together for Christmas, we get pratfalls, arguments, blatant product placement and a barely deserved happy ending.
What is surprising is how often we find ourselves on Kurt’s side.
He cracks jokes to the children about hookers, encourages them to fire high-powered rifles and sternly tells his grand-daughter that women should stay at home but he’s shown to be an effective role model for his nervous grandson.
His advice about girls – basically don’t talk, just kiss – comes across as a vital life lesson. And it’s the wimpy, modern men who are the butt of almost every joke.
Lithgow and Ferrell deliver a smattering of laughs, but they come with a very bitter aftertaste.