The first gag I got to “enjoy” involved some contestants on a fake game show (therein lies the gag) being interviewed by Paula Abdul, who also happens to be pranking her own career by participating on the show. I believe the gag here was that the contestants were required to answer Paula’s questions in a stupid voice. CUTTING EDGE OF HILARITY HERE, FOLKS. It’s unclear whom the trick is being pulled on: Paula, the contestants, or the viewing audience at large. It couldn’t be Paula Abdul – she hasn’t been lucid enough to be embarrassed since her MC Skat Kat days (ask your older siblings), and the show isn’t meta enough to pull a prank on the audience itself, so it follows that the contestants actually agreed, post-making-them-look-like-assholes, to permit this nonsense to be televised. The pranks ends when Mandel jumps out, removes an unnecessary disguise, his bald head gleaming in the stage lights, and tells them they’re all on television. Hooray, what a fabulous con! Making people look stupid! On television! Oh, and Paula stands around in a pill-induced haze until the cameras cut away. One can only assume that her first question after the cameras went off was, “Why does Patrick Stewart keep showing up and fucking with me?”

The other prank I can remember them pulling involves a girl who locks her keys in her car. Howie, again clad in a wig, tells an associate to break her car window to extricate the key, and he does. She is, understandably, flipping her shit. All of a sudden Howie pulls off his wig and glasses, grinning like an idiot. It takes her a while to stop freaking out and notice that the parking attendant looks different than before. She pauses, wondering angrily who this newly bald asshole thinks he is, when it cuts to her screaming, “Oh my God, it’s Howie Mandel!” One assumes that they cut in order to explain to her who Howie Mandel actually is. “No, he’s that dude from “Bobby’s World.” And the rooster thing. Oh, and that briefcases and whores show – “Deal or No Deal”.” It would be nice to have a little more cultural relevance than Howie fucking Mandel before you go smashing the windows of innocent bystanders.

I think, however, the best part of the prank is the resolution to the dilemma. There is none. They basically cackle, “Ha ha, we pranked the FUCK out of that bitch!” and switch to something new. I couldn’t even tell whether they were planning on fixing the damage they did, or just leaving it at a broken window and a chance to appear foolish on television. What an opportunity. Again, what’s so puzzling is that all of these people signed releases in order to appear on the show. They agreed, after the fact, to look like dumbasses in front of the entire goddamn world in order to further Howie Mandel’s career. I would take that deal! Wait, shit, I’m confusing his shows. He sure fooled me! And I guess that, indeed, is Howie Do It.

VERDICT: Those people that always told me that television was the devil? I think they were right.

~ Jim Martin

See, I like my comedy movies like a young Muhammad Ali: they float around, throw a couple jabs here and there, and set you up for a one-two punch that just knocks you on your ass. This film is like an old Muhammad Ali: shaky, unsure of where it’s going, and probably not right to laugh at.  Every aspect of the movie feels like it was written by a committee of fourteen-year-old kids. He’s from New Jersey! Isn’t that fucking hilarious? He’s fat and falls down a lot! Fat fucks falling down are always a laugh riot. There are very few redeeming traits to this film, but I’m trying to be fair, so here we go. One is that it clocks in at less than 90 minutes, so at least your suffering won’t last too long. The other is that it’s so poorly written that no lines stick out, to be repeated ad nauseam at frat houses across the world.

PBMC is about the stereotypical mall cop, one who takes his job very seriously. He is, of course, the last line of defense against anyone who would do harm to that shining bastion of America, the Mall. He’s a single father, as his ex-wife, an illegal immigrant, married him in order to get citizenship, and divorced him soon after birthing a daughter (were this a better movie, one might see this as conservative propaganda). He consistently fails at his attempts to become a real cop, as his hypoglycemia constantly causes him to pass out and fall down. His real troubles begin, though, on Black Friday, that most horrid of shopping days, when a gang of credit card thieves, armed with an impressive array of parcours skills, take the mall hostage. Naturally, this is the easiest way to steal credit card numbers, because hacking into a database is for pussies. As the thieves act out an extreme sports competition around him, Blart obliviously drowns his sorrows in a game of Rock Band, and they fail to notice him. Thus, he is THE ONLY PERSON standing between these thieves and… world domination? It’s never really made clear. The ringleader says that he has a bunch of stuff he bought on Amazon.com, and is damned if he’s going to pay for it himself. This is post-Obama America, a socialist paradise where everyone else pays for your shit.

Blart is told to leave the mall and let the professionals handle the hostage situation, but our valiant hero comes to realize that among the hostages are his daughter and his love interest (not the same person, fortunately). Here’s where the “wacky” comes in. Much is made about how he can’t carry a gun, so he uses his utter corpulence to save the day. Who could forget the scene where the air duct he crawls around in falls and crushes a couple henchmen? And what about the mid-speed chase between Blart on a Segway and one of the thieves (who inexplicably has time to pull tricks on his bicycle, but not get away from this fat ambling douchebag)? Have I mentioned lately that he’s fat? And a loser? Because he’s a fat loser. The movie just keeps throwing this in your face. He distracts the head bad guy by throwing hot sauce in his eyes (don’t ask), and while the hostages call for him to do something, he just stands there with a shit-eating grin on his face. An apt metaphor for the movie overall: there are some decent setups for comedy but no one does anything funny.

Of course, everything wraps up nice and dandy, and it seems like Blart has succeeded for the first time in his menial life. He’s offered a post as a cop for his bravery throughout the situation, but he’s perfectly happy to continue as a mall security guard. This is a perfect launching pad for a sequel, an unfortunate inevitability considering the movie did $40 million at the box office in its first weekend. If, during a recession, we are forced to sacrifice our luxuries in favour of the bare necessities, then seeing some sad fat fuck fall down over and over is the lifeblood of the American economy.

~ Jim Martin

            The trailer that I saw while watching my beloved television portrayed the heroic struggle of a pampered chihuahua who, like many of us on spring break, gets lost in Mexico. Through the help of some Mexican stereotype dogs, she presumably finds her way back home, borrowing heavily from Homeward Bound (or any other movie in which animals talk and drugs are not specifically involved). The film’s release coincides nicely with Paris Hilton’s recent loss of her chihuahuas to ravaging coyotes. In the face of such a monumental tragedy, it’s just good to laugh again. Or, well, it would be. In the same way that The Wizard of Oz syncs up with “Dark Side of the Moon,” this film would go much better with a blindfold and earplugs. If this film does well at the box office, I may have to film its sequel: Quebec Chihuahua: Escape from Puppy Mill Island. 

RATING: D-, but the blindfold/earplug combo puts it up to a B+.

                                                                                                                                                                                                       ~ Jim Martin