There's something about the steely-eyed ignorance of the American bohunk that's straight-out hilarious. The problem is that it has always been exploited with a mean spirited snideness that is disappointing. There have only been a few films I've ever seen that do a decent job of respectfully handling American bumpkinitude, and Talladega Nights is one of the best. I put it right up there with 'Super Troopers', 'Oh Brother Where Art Thou' and 'Raising Arizona'.
This movie is a real hoot all the way through. They made a huge casting mistake however. The rival French driver should have been played by Bronson Pinchot or Paul 'Pee Wee Herman' Rubens. The guy they cast simply could not get a laugh on his own.
This hilarious parody of a NASCAR champ has it all but the thing that really did it for me was how the winning attitude rubbed off on his kids (Walker and Texas Ranger). There's nothing quite as wrecklessly apt as foul-mouthed boys who get encouragement from their beer sotted poppa when they're ranking on somebody. I wish I could remember some of their insults, but they were a real crackup. A good dose of Granny Law whips them into shape when Ricky Bobby hits the skids and has to go back and live with his mother. (Thankfully not in a trailer park).
There's a healthy dose of satire on the culture of product placement in NASCAR, and the movie overflows with patches, labels and logos. Ricky Bobby prays to 'eight pound nine ounce baby Jesus' in one scene of inspired hilarity. I'm giggling just thinking about it.
I'm not a fan of Farrell but I'd rather watch him than Jim Carey or Robin Williams. I, for one, thought this movie was a good deal funnier than Anchorman, and not just because I happen to respect jazz flute.
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