My Big Fat Independent Movie (2005)

Delightfully intelligent, stupid movie--Reviewer: slowuptake The most surprising thing about My Big Fat Independent Movie is that no one had made it sooner. Crammed full of every cliché it can lay it's hands on, and openly disparaging of every independent movie made from Pulp Fiction to Run Lola Run its crude, disgusting, full of sexual innuendo, stupid dialogue, foul language and is hysterically funny from beginning to end. Oh sure it's as subtle as a brick wall and as intellectually challenging as professional wrestling, but that's half the fun. Billing itself as the lowbrow comedy for the highbrow crowd, it makes no pretensions to being anything more than a brilliantly stupid movie. High art this isn't and thank goodness for that. Like a scythe in a cheap horror movie it cuts everything down in size so no ones a head and shoulders above anyone. All your favourites are seen minus their aspirations to art hood. Oh sure some of the jokes are more stupid than funny, but that's to be expected when you're shooting target practice with a grenade launcher. You'll blow everything up, but stuff is bound to be a little messy around the edges. In case you were wondering, there is a plot to this movie, mainly useful for bringing in the stunning variety of clichés and allusions to other movies that pepper the film, but it does provide a semblance of structure for the fun. Two thugs Sam (Neil Barton) and Harvey (Eric Hoffman) are sent to Las Vegas by their employer to botch a robbery of a suitcase. On their way, they are supposed to pick up a guy with a guitar case full of weapons. Unfortunately, he has a tragic encounter with a semi-trailer while engaged in conversation with a French girl, Anomalie (Ashley Head) who just wants to make everyone happy. (If their idea of happiness is winding up dead in horrific accidents than she does a bang up job) Instead, they pick up a guy with a trombone case, with a trombone in it; Johnny Vince (Darren Keefe) He's happy to go along because he's still recovering from breaking up with his girl friend, who he went out with twice five years ago. What with the restraining order and all, it's been difficult to try and get back together with her, and the lure of Las Vegas irresistible to the want to be hep-cat. What independent movie would be complete without the confused and disillusioned woman who just can't be happy with her lot in life? With that in mind, they kidnap Julianne (Paget Brewster) after some really gratuitous violence in a grocery store. Julianne is so confused that she can't decide if her husband ignored her because he lusted after the male black gardener, or if she was dissatisfied with the life of being waited on hand and foot by a devoted husband. As they continue along on their trip they stop for lunch at My Big Fat Greek Restaurant (the highest grossing independent restaurant ever), run over a German woman jogging, and meet up with the Lanky Man (Neil Hopkins doing a remarkable impression of Christopher Walken) who has the key to the warehouse where they are supposed to botch the robbery. He also has the key to their obligatory fantasy scenes, until he gets so disgusted with the clichés involved he throws them all out. One of the sillier aspects, but still nicely done, of the movie is having the characters commenting on the "independent" aspects of what's happening in the scene. Whether it's choosing appropriately ironic music for a torture sequence, or deciding on the best way to get the audience to relate to your anti-hero psychotic tendencies, they're very concerned about ensuring that they make the grade. Along with two sub plots; a trio of Hassidic hit men intent on discovering the formulae for the ideal corn beef sandwich, and a guy who can't remember anything except Kenny G. is responsible for his wife's death, our companions finally make it to the warehouse. After the obligatory surreal dance sequence, the final showdown can take place. Suffice to say it's just what you'd expect, but more. My Big Fat Independent Movie is stupid, inane, pointless and howling funny. It is obviously made by people who are both fans of independent movies and who are aware of how contradictory that term is becoming. To genuinely appreciate this movie, it will help if you've seen the movies they're teasing. I'm sure part of the fun for some people will be trying to identify the thirty or more features referred to in the movie. Watching Pauly Shore getting his head blown off with what looked like a rocket launcher, and Jason Mewes as a sex starved answering machine are just added bonuses to this delightfully intelligent, stupid movie.