jody hill's THE FOOT FIST WAY and steve conrad's THE PROMOTION (2008)

there's an important bit of screenwriting wisdom stressing the odd but undeniable truth that comedy is a much harder thing to write than drama. where dramatic pieces only necessarily require the tangible minimums of storytelling (scenario, character, conflict) and leave everything else wide open, even the stupidest of comedy scripts ideally involves painstaking attention not only to what is or is not funny but also how to package it; after all, miscalculations in tone, pacing, or performance can conceivably mean the difference between belly laughs and bad times. (see: The Love Guru.)

(just kidding, please don't see The Love Guru.)

even harder is consideration of the comic character, which folds its requirements back into the more complicated realms of drama. it's not quite important that we believe the characters could exist (it's sufficient to understand how they might), but constructing a story around them requires something more: an emotional connection, however slight, is what keeps audiences in the seats even when the jokes start to spoil.

it's a credit to Jody Hill, then, that his The Foot Fist Way almost manages to succeed as a comedy despite careless disregard for any and all of these guidelines. here is a microbudgeted film (shot in Concord, NC) that remains microbudgeted in spirit, from the indifferent staging and inert pace to the woefully modest scope of its story, and for the most part lacks the sort of inspiration that typically leads a group of friends to make a feature film. throughout the running time there is vulgarity, misanthropy, awkwardness, and even misogyny.

ah, but there is also Danny McBride. perhaps recognizable to some from stolen scenes in David Gordon Green's underappreciated romance All The Real Girls or the probably-suitably-appreciated Hot Rod, the pudgy, mustachioed McBride plays Fred "King Of The Demo" Simmons, a small-town Tae Kwon Do instructor with an unfaithful wife, somewhat dubious credentials, and few friends beyond the children and smattering of adults that faithfully attend his dojo. there is a bit (only a bit) more to the story, but it's fair to say that the focus is much more on McBride than anything to do with the plot, as he gifts the almost forgettable film with a towering, ferociously deadpan comedic performance that has already facilitated his clean jump into mainstream comedy. (next up: a supporting role in Green's Apatow-produced stoner thriller Pineapple Express.) from getting riled up about 2-for-1 crab legs to cornering a pretty student with thickheaded advances, Fred Simmons is a living, breathing (and unmistakably Southern) dumbass, and McBride gives the comedic turn of the year so far.

until, that is, the film finally collapses under his weight. the amateur cast makes The Foot Fist Way's sloppy chug that much slower, and in the end the whole thing is done in by its limitations. though Fred Simmons is an undeniably funny character, neither the filmmakers nor the audience manage anything approaching real empathy on his behalf, and being put-upon and cheated on don't carry that much weight when we're indifferent to their victim's plight. The Foot Fist Way will doubtlessly achieve cult longevity (it was distributed by Will Ferrell, who would likely chair the film's fan club) but it's much more of a raw showcase than a comedic film.

Steve Conrad's The Promotion, on the other hand, has an embarrassment of riches where emotional identification is concerned. the story of two Chicago men (Seann William Scott and John C. Reilly) competing for the managership of their grocery chain's nearest location is ripe enough material for a light dramatic comedy by itself, but Conrard shakes things up by approaching the rivals with equal sympathy and intelligence, ensuring in the process that each member of the audience's moment-to-moment alliances will not only shift but do so independently of everyone else's.

the film is presented primarily from Scott's perspective (the narration is among the tonal debts to Alexander Payne's kindred Election) but we grow increasingly weary of his white lies and poor impulse control; Reilly, on the other hand, emerges as a shady, Canadian usurper to Scott's grocer throne but ends up charming with his innocence. over the course of the movie each man makes decisions and acts in ways that speak alternately well and ill of his character, and we are asked to determine for ourselves the worthiness of each choice.

The Promotion is nuanced, emotionally intelligent, and above all humanistic in a way few films are. Conrard (making his debut behind the camera after writing The Weather Man and The Pursuit Of Happyness) continues to explore the way people define themselves by the work they do, for better or worse, and when the dust settles on the titular promotion it's hard not to feel simultaneously glad and disappointed in the outcome. there are more hard laughs to be found in Foot Fist Way, but why bother with a caricature when the real thing is so much more satisfying?

(from the KNOXVILLE VOICE)