Captain Underpants: The First Epic Movie review

Children’s entertainment is often overlooked for its significant in the development of our creative minds. Kid’s media is what ultimately teaches us how to absorb information as adults. When it comes to film, kid-vid teaches us about genre, comedic /dramatic editing choices, as well as important cultural reference points. Children’s literature is equally significant in our developing minds, so when films are adapted from our grade schools’ book-fair catalog it’s worth noting how the translation from one media to another informs how the property is now being marketed to a newer generation. In the case of “Captain Underpants: The First Epic Movie” we can see a direct influence from the source material mixed in with the modern comedic sensibilities of the voice talent and screenwriter Nicholas Stoller (“Get Him to The Greek," “The Muppets”).

Kevin Hart and Thomas Middleditch voice George and Harold, two grade-school pranksters who spend more time in school hatching plans to humiliate their grumpy Principle Mr. Krupp (Ed Helms) than they do studying. After school, they hang out in their tricked out tree-house drawing comic book adventures of their superhero creation Captain Underpants. Later, when a prank goes wrong with a cereal-box hypno-ring, Principle Krupp is put into a deep trance where he then behaves as their beloved hero. This is all fun and games for the duo until a real-life mad scientist super-villain named Professor Poopypants (Nick Kroll) is hired to teach at the school, where he plans to implement his devious schemes. It is then up to Harold and George to convince their dazed and deluded Captain Underpants to save the day.

Obviously, all of this is very silly and the movie revels in the source’s juvenile sensibilities. Stoller and company might have internalized the text as a celebration of the class-clown. In this world, science is boring, nerds and teachers and humorless and school assignments get in the way of creativity.  At one point we see that Krupp has even cancelled the school’s arts programs. For me there’s mixed messaging here, both emphasizing the importance of imagination and self-assurance and celebrating crass anti-intellectualism. The worlds of the creative arts and the worlds of academics don’t have to be mutual exclusive, but “Captain Underpants” curiously pits them against one another.

If I’m not analyzing the content as closely, as an animated comedy, the movie’s funny enough. Jokes about underpants, poopy pants and farting orchestras don’t really resonate so much with me anymore, but Stoller peppers the dialogue with occasional clever references and humorous turns of phrase, and the film contains a live-action sock-puppet aside that makes you wish the whole movie had committed to its low-tech charm.

“Captain Underpants” skews fairly young and a lot of its base humor left me cold, but there’s an appeal and whimsy about the world created here that makes it difficult not to fall in line with the movie’s mischievous irreverence.  The voice-actors bring allot specificity to their characters and the textured and stylized animation is easy enough on the eyes to allow for quick cuts, jumpy asides and rapid zooms. I can’t say that this will be a family movie standard in the coming years, but I can that it made me laugh and held my attention better than most films intended for the same audience.

Grade: C+

Originally Published in the Idaho State Journal/Jun-2017

Listen to this week's episode of Jabber and the Drone to hear more conversation about "Captain Underpants: The First Epic Movie."

The Bronze review

The earnestness of the traditional sports drama has always been ripe for parody. The clichés of the genre (aspiring youngster, grumpy coach, training montage, mean rival, final showdown) are so well ingrained in our cultural consciousness that it provides a perfect structure to hang some jokes on. “The Bronze,” written by and starring Melissa Rauch of “The Big Bang Theory,” is a filthy sports movie send-up with a committed central performance and a lot of funny ideas. This dark comedy aspires to the small-town satire of films like “Waiting for Guffman” and the subversive shock of films like Alexander Payne’s “Election” but the Rauch’s natural humor is too often tampered by director Bryan Buckley’s mismatched, somber tone.

The film is set in everyone-known-everyone Amherst Ohio, where former Olympic gymnast Hope Greggory (Rauch) struts as the town’s queen bee. Even though she was only able to compete once before injuring herself and taking home a bronze metal and a broken ankle, she still’s able to get away with treating everyone like dirt while getting a free slice of pizza from her local mall’s Sbarro. Though Hope seems to lack ambition and has become bitterly beholden to her faded glory days, she is thrown back into coaching a new young athlete named Maggie (Haley Lu Richardson) when she learns that her former coach has passed away and will only release her 500,000 inheritance when and if she can make Maggie a star.

The movie hinges on Rauch’s performance and seeing as she co-wrote the part for herself, she convincingly transforms into this hilariously pathetic, monster of a human being and her raunchy, profanity-laden dialogue, delivered in a thick Midwestern accent, never fails to shock or earn a chuckle. Side performances by Thomas Middleditch as Rauch’s twitchy assistant and Gary Cole as her put-upon mailman father serve to balance Hope’s unrelenting contemptibility and gives the audience a comfortable way into her world.

This comedy contains many quotable lines laced throughout the screenplay and like the film’s tonal reference points, such as “Heathers” and the aforementioned “Election,” the movie revels in its un-PC meanness.  It’s a shame then that two thirds into the story, the film loses its nerve and slides comfortably back into the inspiring sports movie framework, undercutting the subversive edge of its unsympathetic main character.

Director Bryan Buckley lets too many scenes fall flat with simple, hand-held camera techniques and a distractingly mournful piano score that suggest a Sundance seriousness that the movie never really fulfills—nor needs to fulfill. Despite the smaller budget and the specificity of its topic and location, at its heart this is an absurdist comedy with an oafish lead character, not unlike the average Will Ferrell vehicle, and it should have been pitched just as broadly. The choice to present the material with an indie-friendly, dramedy aesthetic is more often than not a huge disservice to the final product.

 “The Bronze” may not be the instant comedy classic it wants to be and many things about its filmic execution leaves a something to be desired, but Rauch shines through as a bold comedic voice and the movie's more outrageous moments, such as a full-frontal gymnastic sex scene and the jaw-dropping opening sequence, should earn the satisfaction of some cult audiences.

Grade: B - 

Originally Published in the Idaho State Journal/April-2016

Listen to this week's episode of Jabber and the Drone to hear more conversation about "The Bronze."