• Wide Release
• Director: Jody Hill
• Written by: Jody Hill
• Running Time: 86 minutes
• Language: English
• MPAA Rating: R - Restricted
• Cast: Seth Rogen, Ray Liotta, Michael Peña, Anna Faris, Celia Watson, Dan Bakkedahl, Jesse Plemons, Matt Yuan, John Yuan, Collette Wolfe, Randy Gambill, Alston Brown, Cody Midthunder, Deborah Brown, Aziz Ansari, Eddie Rouse, Patton Oswalt, Lauren Miller, Ben Best, Rafael Herrera, William Sterchi, Robbie Hill, Danny McBride, Marlon Cunningham , Milos Milicevic, Antonia DeNardo, Danielle Martin, David House, Fran Martone, Gail L. Harrington, Cody Weselis, Lucy Hill, Wyatt Tipton, Shane Habberstad, Dylan Hice, Parker Ewing, Ivan Kraljevic, Kevin Christopher Brown, Jamie Haqqani, Alessandra Hayden, Carlton Liggins, Michael Neal Powell, Foued Zayani

"Observe and Report” is a brazen 80's punk band of a movie, loaded front to back with sporadic eruptions of invective verbal gruffness, spontaneous violence, extreme tough guy abandon and haughty political incorrectness. While thematically parallel to “Paul Blart: Mall Cop” that where’s the similarities end. Indeed, Jody Hill’s film charts a far different course, one where the highs and lows arrive with all the harshness and waywardness of an ocean in a Hurricane -- in keeping with the central character’s mercurial mood swings, a by-product of his bipolar disorder. This film traffics in unpredictability the way “ Blart” trafficked in overwrought slushiness, and, because of that the film takes on a very rigid texture, one that is sure to turn off many a viewer who arrive expecting the gross-out comedy deceptively sold to them in the advertising spots. As far as the film goes, there is a sense that director Jody Hill wasn’t allowed to (or willing to, maybe) go as far into the dark places as he would have wanted; reigned in artistically by chintzy executives at Warner Bros., however, for what it’s worth, the film still manages to push into areas most films wouldn’t dare go, thus ultimately arriving at a place that feels very, well, anti-commercial.

Forest Ridge Mall has got a problem, and no, it’s not the male exhibitionist running around half-cocked in the parking lot flashing women, it’s the mall’s security guard Ronnie Barnhardt (Seth Rogen) self-appointed to track down and capture said perpetrator. The reason for this danger becomes apparent as the film shifts into first gear, revealing Ronnie to be one of those ‘lights are on, but nobody’s home’ kind of power mad dolts, typical of most any police officer emerging out of the academy the last few years. Barnhardt is like Barney Fife merged into Travis Bickle and Patrick Bateman: a rude, spontaneously vicious, xenophobic asshole who might be, possibly, semi-retarded. He’s also bipolar which forces him to toss back Klonopin the way some might eat Tic Tacs, if only to stabilize the crazy that lurks just inches below the surface. The tension is heightened tenfold when Ronnie’s dream girl, the dippy cosmetics saleswoman Brandi (Anna Faris), is accosted by the streaker and a real cop, Detective Harris (Ray Liotta in full “Goodfellas” mode), is called in to investigate, an act of which Ronnie finds insulting. In an effort to re-assert his authority, Ronnie pulls together a quaint task force of not-too-bright mall cops to bring down the perpetrator, all the while electing to take himself off his medication. Yes, it isn’t long before Ronnie’s demons force themselves out into the open, leading to a series of extraneously violent encounters, as Ronnie allows his reflexively aggressive side to run wild.

As he grows more and more violent, and his capacity to rationally comprehend the consequences of actions deteriorates, Ronnie finds some humanity in his family and co-workers, not enough to keep him grounded, but sufficient enough to keep him tick-tocking with a smile on his face. The anti-thesis to the sluttish, mean-spirited Brandi, Ronnie’s crush, is a leg-brace-wearing Toast-A-Bun counter clerk, Nell (Collette Wolfe). Always quick with a free cup of coffee, a smile and a kind word, her subtle romantic overtures to Ronnie are never reciprocated maybe because he’s so completely deluded. There’s also Michael Peña, Ronnie’s ever-obedient co-worker, hiding behind a shy, unassuming veneer lingers a very disturbed individual. Then there’s his alcoholic mother (Celia Weston), often ready with some raw truth, she drinks herself into a stupor nearly every night, and passes out, literally, in the middle of the living room, something that we discover is merely par for the course in Ronnie’s fucked up world.

As I said earlier, there’s a sort of rebellious, go for broke unpredictability running through the entire film, and this is best epitomized in a series of excessively violent scenes that really force the audiences hand visually, including the final ten minutes, which trades funny for shocking and gory, in about the time it takes to blink your eyes. Another scene, the one basically causing all the problems, involves Brandi powering down a combination of pills and Tequila shots during a dinner date. Afterword, the scene shifts to a bedroom, where a sweat-drenched Ronnie (clearly channelling Max Hardcore) lay thrusting himself into a seemingly unconscious Brandi (note the vomit that cakes the pillow beside her head – Max). Not getting any response, Ronnie stops momentarily to assess whether or not his partner is still alive and is suddenly met with Brandi’s raspy, “Why you stoppin’ mother fucker?" Regardless of how you interpret Brandi’s kneejerk blurt, this little sequence has film critics and fans alike crying, “Rape!” My take; well, I thought it was consensual. Who knows?

For me, one of the most interesting elements of  “Observe and Report” is the stuff going on between Rogen and Liotta’s characters. The strange patriarchal dynamic that exists between them, as Ronnie sees Harrison, maybe subconsciously, as his own father, seeking approval, acceptance, and, even, at times, advice. It’s obvious, even from the first scene that rent-a-cop Ronnie looks at Detective Harrison, as his competition, but upon closer inspection it definitely speaks to some serious deep-seated issues involving Ronnie and his estranged father, whom, mom confirms left because of Ronnie’s various ‘special needs’. For Ronnie, part of his journey to become an ‘actual’ cop, something precipitated partially by Liotta’s actions (“You believed in me,” Rogen tells him) entails a quest for approval from the fatherly, tactful Liotta, something Ronnie ultimately achieves in a final bittersweet parting shot in the film’s shockingly upbeat ending. I’m not sure if Hill had any intention of playing this relationship that way, but for me, the film screamed it: The sequence where Ray Liotta has to break the news to Ronnie that he has been turned down by the Police admissions board, reeks of a kind of father-son moment right down to Liotta’s vocal delivery, which moves from quiet scorn to blatantly comforting. “I’m sorry, Ronnie,” he tells him, sounding sincere. Even the beat down that Liotta throws to Rogen in the mall, seems more befitting of a father spanking his son who is in the midst of a tantrum. I know that I’m alone in my thinking on this one, even amongst my friends, but alas, this is how that relationship played out to me, and is one of the film’s interminable charms.

Jody Hill might just be pandering to his audience, begging folks take stock of his distorted mindset, however in this world of generic ”Paul Blarts” and crusty film critics eager to gush over any period piece mediocrity that comes out, it’s nice to see a film that dares to be daring, even if it falls short in its objective.