Hot Rod
Directed by Akiva Schaffer
Paramount Pictures, 2007
By Jason Kogler
I must admit I am not a great fan of stupidity as cinematic theme. I am not one of the legions of individuals believing Ron Burgundy to be ‘the man’, or that a Liger is awesome. No, I wouldn’t vote for Pedro, and Jack Black as a Mexican is only mildly amusing. I even believe we are compelled to seek out stupidity in film because it reassures us. By watching someone else make a complete ass of himself on screen we feel more comfortable with our own failings, mistakes and foibles. Hot Rod succeeds at presenting its audience with a moronic hero who can take on that role, but becomes mired in lame and repetitive comedy that prevents the film from soaring.
Produced by Mr. Ferrell himself, Hot Rod is an amalgamation of concepts borrowed from the film’s predecessors. There is a bit of 70s and 80s reminiscence: a crew of guys redefining mediocrity, and, of course, a notable moustache. Rod Kimble (Andy Samberg) is a twenty-something who has always dreamt of filling his late father’s shoes as a professional stuntman. He juggles this desire with his desperate need to impress his stepfather Frank (Ian McShane), and the girl-next-door, Denise (Isla Fisher). When Frank falls ill and needs a heart transplant, Rod’s brilliant solution is to jump fifteen buses with his moped.
Hot Rod pokes fun at conformity and the Hollywood formula; it mixes cheesy rock ballads and silly dance numbers with a well-established narrative. Boy usurps man, boy gets girl, boy wins town’s love and respect. This simplicity forces the creative minds behind the film to scramble for filler with absurd attempts to score laughs. Repetition is the major tactic of choice, and the film is punctuated by musical montage, slapstick sequences and a bizarre five minute scene involving the phrase “cool beans”.
I was compelled to believe that the writer had only a handful of comic gems and tried to stretch them as far as she could. Jokes are played to exhaustion. What begins as fresh and original becomes tired and excruciating. It is hard to swallow the fact that the film was written by Pam Brady, one of the minds behind South Park: Bigger, Long and Uncut, as well as Team America: World Police. Hot Rod feels more like a helping of SNL skits cooked up in a brainstorming session by rent-a-writers.
The satire game is played throughout, yet never displays as much courage as Samberg’s character does stupidity. All the jabs at popular film culture seem disingenuous in such a conventional Hollywood script. Rod is subordinate to his step father, desperately seeking his respect by fighting him. When Frank falls ill, Rod fears that his only opportunity to supplant him as father figure will fade away. Rod must make the transition from boy to man through a right of passage. Likewise, his ability to win the heart of Denise is complicated by the involvement of her boyfriend Jonathan (Will Arnett); a second familiar storyline. A film that begins exploring the humour of mediocrity and stupidity ends with a triumph that robs all earlier moments of the little fun they had.
Hot Rod should be a big laugh; a film no one takes seriously; I had a difficult time seeing humour in the mess of scenes presented. Repetition in and of itself does not make for good comedy, unless of course your mind is in an altered state (wink wink, nudge nudge, say no more) and you have the tendency to forget that which you have just witnessed. Right now, I wish I could do just that!
