2.5 stars out of 5
The trailer looked cute — Marc Maron working in a pawn shop. Was playing at the artsy theater in Asbury Park, so I could beat the traffic before a concert, chat with the friendly ticket booth guy, sit in some air conditioning, and enjoy another chocolate covered graham cracker. Nice way to spend a couple of summer-day hours.
Movie begins. The very, very funny Mike O’Brien on the screen — from SNL and the creator of the brilliant show A.P. Bio! This film might be even better than expected!
Except it looked cheap. Like, filmed on a flip phone or something. OK, OK, it’s a “small” movie. We’re in Birmingham, Alabama and Marc Maron runs a pawn shop. Maron doesn’t really “read” southern; they explain that he’s from New Mexico. OK, whatever. His young coworker Jon Bass — who was hilarious in the sadly one-season-only Big Time in Hollywood, FL — also doesn’t seem particularly southern. Hmmm.
Dependably funny Michaela Watkins and I-think-I’ve-seen-her-before Jillian Bell aren’t supposed to be southern; they are a couple visiting because Jillian’s grandpa died and left her… a sword. So we have a movie set in the deep South with four non-southern leads. That’s maybe a bit problematic.
But first that sword. We have a high-concept comedy here. A letter from the deceased Alzheimer’s-afflicted gramps indicates that this Union sword was surrendered to the Confederacy — there is vague paperwork backing the claim — and it all proves that… the South won the war! And because the Internet is filled with conspiracy freaks — including Dan Bakkedahl, so delightfully cruel as Roger Furlong on Veep — they might be able to make a tidy bundle by selling this sword. With help from a pawn shop.
There’s a subplot with a maybe-still-strung out woman played by director/co-writer Lynn Shelton, former lover of Marc Maron, but how can he ever trust her again?
There is also bluesy guitar and I immediately worried, “No, please, they didn’t let Marc Maron do the music.” They did. I feel like a lot of favors were cashed in in the making of this movie.
We do get a decent amount of laughs — I’d credit O’Brien, listed as the co-writer — but the movie is just not very good. Too much plot, too many leaps of logic, and this vague anti-South feel that seemed kind of offensive to me. Especially playing in a little art cinema, where you’re preaching to the converted.
If you really love Maron, watch this when it goes to streaming. But if you’re like me and fast-forward through his WTF intros, you can skip this too.
Jack Silbert, curator