Observe and Report: Why So Serious?

April 17, 2:44 PMPortland Movie ExaminerIan Sawyer

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Those who have seen Kevin Smith’s Mallrats know that there’s not much substance to work with in a film set in a mall. Sure, a mall is full of ‘characters,’ like the tee-shirt folder at The Gap, or the Orange Julius vendor, or the tween purchasing a Twilight poster in Hot Topic—they all have their place inside these lockboxes of fluorescent consumerism. In fact, ‘the mall’ has come to represent the pinnacle of vapid overindulgence that is the scourge of American idealism. Perhaps this is why Jody Hill (The Foot Fist Way), director of Observe and Report, chose such a brutally ugly lens through which to portray the life of Ronnie Barnhardt (Seth Rogan), head of Forest Ridge Mall security. 

Observe and Report begins with a pleasant-enough opening credits montage of various mall denizens going about their day. A confident looking Seth Rogan is the last image we see before cameras abruptly cut to a flasher running through the mall parking lot uttering obscenities to horrified female patrons. The increasingly perverse Observe and Report quickly becomes one of those movies where you wonder ‘at which point am I going to walk out on this thing?’ Unfortunately, I made it all the way to its vulgar and perplexingly violent end. The greatest casualty here wasn’t my hard earned cash; it was my respect and trust in Seth Rogan as a plausible leading comic actor. The movie elicited very few chuckles and absolutely no laughs. In fact, I was left in a bit of a confused daze. Why was this movie so violent? What was with the unchecked glorification of racism, guns, and drugs? Why were Ronnie’s bi-polar disorder and his mother’s obscene alcoholism punch lines? I’m all for irreverent, male-oriented humor (see my review of I Love You, Man), but most successful testosterone-driven comedies act as a mirror, reflecting the comic absurdity of typical dudes and the possibility of their enlightenment. In Observe and Report, Hill wields comedy like a sledgehammer coming down on a physically challenged person’s groin, revealing nothing but the ugliness and downright cruelty of suburban life. There’s being dark and subversive, and then there’s just being dim.

The only ray of comedic light comes from Anna Faris (The House Bunny), who steals scenes as Brandi, a makeup-counter girl and object of desire for Ronnie and slimy Detective Harrison (Ray Liotta). Sleazy, slutty, and insipidly inappropriate, Faris manically channels the likes of Lindsay Lohan and Brittany Spears through out a host of scenes—most notably the dinner date where she downs tequila shots and a bottle of prescription drugs, leading to the most awkward and uncomfortable sex scene (read: date rape) in recent memory. 

Disappointing is Rogan, typically a teddy bear with edgy irreverence and spot-on timing; here he is miscast as an abrasive, face-stomping, bitter, delusional, psycho cop-wannabe. The vulnerability that is usually so inviting for Rogan’s fans is only hinted at in scenes with his drop-dead-drunk mother (Celia Weston) whom he has taken care of in lieu of his estranged father. Lines like, “Do you think Dad left because of me?”…“Definitely,” are clearly meant to be shocking and ironic, but fall flat on their obviousness. Hill, who also wrote the screenplay, must have some pretty serious issues he’s trying to work out. If he’s looking for redemption, he should look elsewhere. The only things for sale in this fictional mall are f-words, blood, and male full frontal nudity. I wish I could say ‘I’m not buying,’ but they already have my money.