When Phil Lord and Christopher Miller return to comedy, expectations run sky-high, and with 22 Jump Street 2 (2025), they deliver a sequel that knows exactly what it is: a gleefully self-aware explosion of absurdity, bromance, and undercover nonsense. Channing Tatum and Jonah Hill slip back into their roles as Jenko and Schmidt like old sneakers—scuffed, ridiculous, but impossibly comfortable.

This time, the undercover assignment throws the duo into the chaotic maze of college life, and the result is a playground of comedy gold. Frat parties drip with beer-soaked chaos, lecture halls become arenas of awkward missteps, and the football field transforms into a proving ground for Jenko’s boundless enthusiasm. As usual, Schmidt stumbles through the artsy crowd with his offbeat earnestness, while Jenko thrives among the athletes, testing their friendship in hilariously painful ways.
At the core, the film remains a love letter to their bromance. The push-and-pull between Schmidt’s neurotic insecurities and Jenko’s childlike overconfidence is both hysterical and strangely heartfelt. Their moments of miscommunication, jealousy, and reconciliation are played with perfect timing, often cutting the most outrageous gags with surprising sincerity. It’s that delicate balance—raunchy laughs wrapped around genuine affection—that keeps the franchise from becoming pure parody.

The villain of the piece comes in the form of a slick, campus-based drug ring, but Lord and Miller are less concerned with the crime plot than with satirizing the very idea of sequels. Winks to the audience, absurd meta-jokes about “doing the same thing again but bigger,” and playful jabs at Hollywood clichés fill nearly every frame. The humor thrives on its awareness, and yet somehow it avoids collapsing under its own irony.
Action sequences are deliberately overblown, as if designed to mock blockbuster excess while still reveling in it. A chase through a frat row street fight feels like Fast & Furious reimagined by college dropouts, while a climax involving a football stadium explodes with both genuine thrills and comedic payoff. The choreography leans into the ridiculous, but the execution is polished enough to impress even without the jokes.
Supporting players shine, with Ice Cube once again chewing the scenery as Captain Dickson, delivering some of the film’s sharpest and angriest laughs. His mix of fury and begrudging paternal affection adds fire to every scene. Meanwhile, a handful of cameos—unspoiled here—push the comedy into even more outrageous territory, cementing this sequel’s commitment to outdoing itself in every way.

The heart of the film, however, lies not in the gags or explosions but in the exploration of growing up. Jenko and Schmidt are forced to confront the uncomfortable truth that adulthood means evolving, even if that means diverging paths. This tension gives the comedy a backbone, reminding audiences that behind every pratfall is the fear of losing someone who feels like family.
Lord and Miller’s visual style remains as hyperactive as ever—bright, kinetic, and alive with exaggerated detail. From split-screen montages to deliberately ridiculous slow-motion shots, the film embraces an aesthetic that mirrors the chaos of college life. Every scene feels heightened, cartoonish, and perfectly tuned to the franchise’s sense of fun.
The writing remains sharp, blending physical comedy with whip-smart dialogue. Schmidt’s anxious ramblings and Jenko’s blissful cluelessness spark off each other in ways that feel endlessly fresh. What could easily become stale instead feels like a reunion of old friends who haven’t lost their spark.

By the time the credits roll—complete with a barrage of self-mocking fake sequels that will leave audiences crying with laughter—it’s clear that 22 Jump Street 2 doesn’t just repeat the formula. It leans into it, bends it, and then blows it up into confetti. The result is a comedy sequel that both skewers and celebrates its own existence.
Scoring a confident 8.5/10, 22 Jump Street 2 (2025) proves that sometimes doubling down on the ridiculous is exactly what the audience needs. Bigger, louder, and undeniably funnier, it’s a riotous reminder that when Schmidt and Jenko go undercover, chaos isn’t just guaranteed—it’s the whole point.