By Caitlin Walsh, News Staff

Within the first 20 minutes of the third installment of The Hangover series, there was a jail riot, a jailbreak on the part of Leslie Chow, a dead giraffe, a dead father, an inappropriate eulogy only Alan could properly deliver and an intervention with the promise of a trip to rehab.

Five minutes after that, the wolfpack had been run off the road whilst on their way to the rehab facility, tied up, and Doug was kidnapped.

The wolfpack’s final film was instantaneously action packed, while not taking itself too seriously — the hilarity outmatched the thrill, reminding the audience that the series was never meant to be on the James Bond action scale. Zach Galifianakis expertly delivered his career defining role once again — to perfectly sum up Alan, he says at his father’s funeral that he was constantly told he was the favorite child, and how many people he’d have rather died before his father: like his mother.

Bradley Cooper brings back the studly Phil, who has virtually not changed a bit. In a rare moment, Phil and his wife were out to dinner on a double date with Stu his wife — which, to say the least, seems uncharacteristic, but gives audiences a glimpse of the other life these men lead.

However, it doesn’t take long for the plot to be established and for the beloved wolves to return. John Goodman made his series debut as Marshall — who, for all intents and purposes, is the film’s main villain, though not an entirely hateable one. Marshall and “Black Doug,” the drug dealer responsible for selling Alan the wrong drugs in the first film, are the ones who run the wolfpack off the road and kidnap Doug. The boys are given their ultimatum — find the gold Chow, now an escaped prisoner on the run, stole from Marshall in three days, or Doug is a dead man.

As Marshall tells the group rather nonchalantly yet entirely threateningly after he shoots “Black Doug” for his incompetence: “And get going … I’m killing Dougs today.”

The plot is, of course, overdone and far-fetched — but that was the premise of the entire series, after all. Though the storyline of the first movie was, debatably, somewhat plausible — boys night gone out of hand in Vegas — the shenanigans they partake in are, hands down, wild. The third movie is no different, an even bigger stretch — but the jokes were just as cutting and the personalities just as big. The first movie may have had an advantage over the other two with such a fresh comedic cast and outlandish scenarios, but the third, at least, did not fall so short of its expectations.

Goodman was not the only notable newcomer to the cast for this movie. Melissa McCarthy was brought in as Alan’s love interest, Cassie, a rough around the edges, foul-mouthed pawn shop owner in Vegas. McCarthy brought the female strength that has been lacking in all three strictly male comedies.

Returning stars make the movie pop, as well, which gave it the reunion feel that only a final movie could. Along with Mike Epp’s “Black Doug” and Heather Graham’s Jade, both from the first movie, audiences were delighted with the return of Carlos the baby — who is no longer a baby and is actually named Tyler. To remind everyone just how long ago the first movie graced their lives, little Tyler is now a growing kid who talks, walks and eats on his own. Alan convinced Tyler in a surprisingly sweet few moments with him that he was his father.

“Your name was Carlos, once. Did you know that?” Tyler shook his head.

When Tyler hugged him goodbye, Alan returned the sunglasses to him that he donned as a baby in their first Vegas romp.

The combination of old and new cast members made for a memorable finale to the series, with some unexpected emotions running at the end as the guys walk side by side towards the door, which in turn created the perfect moment for an end montage of all their wolfpack walking moments from the previous movies set to Kanye West’s “Dark Fantasy” — the perfect end moment.

No matter what, the wolfpack will never shake each other. After all, it’s like Phil said to Alan after saving him from a fatal fall: “C’mon, I wasn’t going to let you go. You’re my boy.”