Talladega Nights: The Ballad Of Ricky Bobby

Talladega Nights: The Ballad Of Ricky Bobby
2006, Sony Pictures
D

First of all- and this is important- what is the deal with all these goddam 120-minute comedy movies? Is it possible for anyone to sustain the funny for that long?

Yes, Talladega Nights has its moments: the cursing kids, Walker and Texas Ranger? Priceless. Will Ferrell running around in his undies screaming to different deities and celebrities? Hilarious also. But basically, the story employs the same formula as in Anchorman, another wildly erratic outing: Ferrell is the best at something. Ferrell’s superiority is challenged. Due to hubris, Ferrell fails and becomes an outcast. He gets better. He returns triumphant.

This movie is also part of a disturbing trend that I call Southxploitation. Sure, Nascar sucks. Sure, there are ignorant, shiftless people in the south, but for Chrissake- there are ignorant, shiftless people everywhere (for instance, Talladega Nights’ screenwriters)! When my wife and I travel in the north, this is why people ask if we’re cousins, or if we wear shoes back on the farm, or if we’re used to running water. It’s so fucking funny, I want to drink a gallon of moonshine, bad-touch my sister, and unload both barrels of my shotgun into someone’s ass.

The most disturbing thing is that some southerners are ignorant enough to buy into movies like Talladega Nights with a kind of pride. (see also: Nebraska’s Larry The Cable Guy).