Archive for August 5th, 2006

Obligatory hack critic blurb: It takes the checkered flag…for laughs!

A movie like Talladega Nights: The Legend of Ricky Bobby can be troublesome to review, mostly because it’s so blissfully stupid that it’s hard to get 600 words out of it, unless you want a recap of funny scenes or the wonder of John C. Reilly’s facial hair. The movie is a reason why a lot of people hate movie reviewers: We’re too busy deconstructing and analyzing to realize how funny something is.

That’s not entirely true. There’s good stupid funny and bad stupid funny. Bad stupid funny is just plain stupid. To paraphrase ace movie critic Jeremiah Kipp, it takes a brain to be entertained. The atrocious Date Movie was a prime example of that not happening, an uncreative and painfully unfunny movie that wasn’t so much a parody as a thoughtless compilation of romantic comedy’s greatest hits. Instead of parodying a formula, the geniuses behind the movie took scenes from roughly 30 movies (I’m not kidding), upped the disgusting factor, looked for easy targets, and passed it off as something original. If Date Movie not the worst movie of 2006, whatever is will probably kill me.

Talladega Nights is good stupid funny for a few reasons. First, Will Ferrell is in it, who masterfully straddles the line between goofy and ironic. As the title character, a reckless NASCAR driver whose desire to win at all costs sends his career into a tailspin, Ferrell again proves his mettle as a comedic heavyweight. Second, like in Anchorman, he’s surrounded by a great supporting cast that doesn’t try to outdo him. Everyone gets to carve out their own country-fried niche, especially Reilly as Ricky’s best friend and teammate, who is so attached to his friend’s life, that Ricky’s family is his family. Literally. And Gary Cole, playing Ricky’s white trash daddy, lends the same sense of comedic restraint that made his Office Space bossman so damned funny.

The true sign of a good stupid movie like Talladega Nights is the screenplay, which spoofs the sweeping, inspirational tones of bad sports movies with gusto–witness the hyperbolic speech Ricky Bobby’s former assistant (Amy Adams, terrific in her brief screen time) gives her broken-down former employer. More importantly, you can quote the hell out of it. Have a discussion on movies with most guys in their twenties or early thirties these days and you won’t escape without hearing lines from Anchorman and The 40-Year-Old Virgin. Talladega Nights is going to have that same effect. Walk through bars and cafeterias over the next few months, and you’re bound to hear lines like: “I’m jacked up on Mountain Dew;” “Please don’t let the invisible fire burn my friend;” “You made that grace your bitch;” and my favorite exchange, which masquerades as a tender moment:

“I’m his lady. I painted the car and we had sex.”

“I wish I could have been there.”

Talladega Nights has a few flaws. Playing a lisping, gay Frenchman and Ricky Bobby’s racing rival, Sacha Baron Cohen (TV’s Ali G.) wastes his considerable comedic talents, which should be on better display in the upcoming Borat movie. And like Anchorman, which was also written by Ferrell and director Adam McKay, some bits (the rehabilitation of Ricky’s awful kids) just don’t work with repeat tries. That’s irrelevant critic talk. You’ll laugh, you’ll laugh hard, and you’ll never think of “Baby Jesus” in quite the same way again.

MPAA Rating: PG-13

Rating: *** (out of 4)