A Wall Street dork who is also the CFO of their investment bank is thrown under the bus for the company's mob-backed Ponzi scheme, so he is shifted to an asylum where nobody will think he will be: Madea and Joe's home
He's still a young guy, but all throughout Witness Protection I imagined Perry sitting glumly at a dressing-room mirror, like the aging Chaplin in Limelight, forlornly rubbing makeup in his face -- a tired, old clown stuck in a tired, old routine.
There are laughs in it, according to the enthusiastic audience I saw it with, but they're pretty spaced out and belong to Madea. What happens between them is unremarkable.
