Waiting

Anna Faris is a curiously post-modern gal, impossible to resist, critic-proof and capable of straddling the very high (Lost In Translation, Brokeback Mountain) and the breathtakingly low (Scary Movie parts 1-4, Just Friends).
Never adverse to slumming it with the no-brow fraternity, when her character in Waiting declares all before her “an exercise in retarded, homophobic futility” you’re inclined to pay attention.
Oh dear. She doesn’t know the half of it. Long before the credits confirm as much, Waiting announces itself as being written by someone who once worked in a ZANY restaurant. Having decided that it would be really super funny to commit all those communal japes involving male genitalia to celluloid, Rob McKittrick’s profoundly puerile debut feature, pitched somewhere between Kitchen Confidential and Clerks, works really hard to convince the viewer of the inherent hilarity of testicles. Like, lay off man. Balls are God’s creatures too.
Taking in one day in the life down in the doldrums of the service industry, this episodic quasi-movie pivots around a contorted sac contest staged between the ne’er do well waiters and chefs of TGI Friday clone, Shenaniganz. Winners in this Darwinian struggle are rewarded with the privilege of kicking their conquests in the arse and calling them a ‘fag’. Ho ho. This is as close to plotting as we ever get. Mostly Waiting trades on obscene quips from the sidelines and to be fair, there are a few frat-tastic buttheaded guffaws to be had from the proceedings; Ryan Reynolds’ always-tolerable Chevy Chase shtick is decently employed on the subject of banging underage waitresses (“By having sex with Natasha, I’ll be defending the very spirit of patriotism and individuality our forefathers fought and died for,” he reasons) and his slutty ex-girlfriend (Faris) rants magnificently on his unsatisfactory sexual technique.
Certainly, lower rent demographics will have little cause for complaint. 12-year-old boys are sure to enjoy brain dead punch lines derived from Alzheimer’s (“You get to meet new people everyday”) and the – weary sigh – obligatory stoner characters. Veterans of Mac-jobs may well lap up the gob garnishes reserved for complaining customers. Almost everyone else will yearn for the restraint and emotional maturity of Jay And Silent Bob Strike Back. Never thought I’d find myself writing those words…