When it comes to discussing a comedy, it’s best to get straight to the point: Is the new version of The Naked Gun funny? Yes! It’s tremendously funny and consistently entertaining throughout its perfectly calibrated 85 minutes.

The beloved franchise—originally starring the legendary Leslie Nielsen as Agent Frank Drebin and conceived by brothers David and Jerry Zucker along with Jim Abrahams (based on their earlier TV series Police Squad!)—is made up of a splendid trilogy of comedies (from 1988 to 1994), spoofs of classic crime and action movie tropes of the era. These films remain enjoyable thanks to their enduring gags and instantly iconic lines (“Nice beaver.”). Several decades later, in a summer filled with sequels and remakes, a reboot of The Naked Gun might feel perfunctory. Fortunately, from its very first scenes, this new installment not only respects the legacy, it also avoids recycling or rehashing what’s already been done.

Under the skilled direction of Akiva Schaffer, not a single second or frame is wasted on moments that don’t aim for a reaction, ranging from quiet giggles to full-throated belly laughs. The American director, a former Saturday Night Live writer and member of the musical comedy trio the Lonely Island, adds another jewel to a résumé that includes the millennial cult classic Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping (2016) and the criminally underseen Chip ‘n Dale: Rescue Rangers (2022), a gem buried in the Disney+ library and perhaps the closest a live-action/animation hybrid has come to rivaling Who Framed Roger Rabbit (1988).

Frank Drebin Jr. (Liam Neeson), son of the original Drebin, is a cop with no scruples who always gets the job done, no matter how questionable his methods. Watching him in action means anything can happen—whether it’s disguising himself as a little girl to stop a bank robbery or biting weapons as if they were chocolate bars. Yes, there’s a case for Drebin to solve, a villain (Danny Huston) with sinister plans to foil, and an inevitable path toward an explosive climax where all loose ends get tied up. There’s also, naturally, a romantic interest that begins the moment Beth Davenport (Pamela Anderson) enlists Drebin’s help in solving her brother’s murder, in a noir-styled first meeting. But she’s no femme fatale: She’s a lover and a sidekick, described in voice-over as “well put together in all the right places.”

In short, this is what we came for: a glorious parade of gags, running jokes, quotations, zingers, and the opportunity to watch actors walk the tightrope of playing the most absurd situations with dead seriousness. The comedy exists for the audience to enjoy, not for the characters themselves (the franchise’s ultimate charm).

Of course, explaining jokes kills the punch. But one can still point out the blend of writing, timing, and performance that makes this one of the summer’s best offerings. Perhaps the highlight comes during the obligatory romantic montage (a tradition in every entry), here transformed into a surreal mini-sketch where Frank and Beth share intimate moments with a snowman they’ve magically brought to life using a spellbook—only for it to turn into a psychopath that tries to kill them (see it to believe it!). Other small but delightful touches abound: police officers constantly handed coffee cups in every imaginable situation; Drebin’s frequent pop culture rants referencing early-2000s touchstones (Buffy, Sex and the City, Janet Jackson’s Super Bowl incident); or the renaming of L.A.’s real Crypto.com Arena as Ponzi Scheme. This endless web of jokes embedded in every frame and line of dialogue makes it the rare comedy worth seeing multiple times just to catch the gags you missed while laughing at the last one.

While Schaffer’s seasoned contribution as writer and director is crucial, what truly brings the film home is the pairing of Neeson and Anderson. Just like Nielsen and Priscilla Presley in the original run, the romantic component—tender and genuine amid the jokes—is the secret sauce holding everything together. Neeson, who has spent over a decade starring in action films teetering on the edge of straight-to-video, plays one of those brooding, violent, vengeful heroes he’s so good at, but with an added dose of romantic anxiety and unhinged hysteria. If we still appreciate comedy the way it deserves to be valued, Neeson’s performance should be in the awards conversation. Anderson, for her part—after a thoughtful reinvention and reintroduction as a serious actress (her work in The Last Showgirl was admirable)—takes the bold step of playing with her iconic sex-symbol image once again. This time, it’s in a comedy that laughs with her, not at her.

Sophisticatedly ridiculous, cleverly dumb, and beautifully shot, The Naked Gun is the answer to any argument about whether there’s still room at the box office for the effective simplicity of a mistreated genre. Its top-notch quality makes a statement: comedy is not just something to relegate to streaming services (like the Happy Gilmore sequel that dropped exclusively on Netflix last week). This is the best pure comedy Hollywood has produced this decade and easily on par with Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar (2021).