A slog through improv run amok -- a film that seems allergic toward anything that might be construed as a legitimate throughline, lest that somehow be interpreted as 'selling out,' and not subversive enough.
Everything about it stinks, from the sophomoric writing to the sleep-inducing performances. But even more frightening is the feeling that the torture being inflicted by the writing-directing team of Robert Ben Garant and Thomas Lennon will never end.
Garant and Lennon's attempts at humor are absolutely terrible. It's as though they have no idea what comedy is or how it works. This results in a series of gags that they must think are hilarious, but are actually extremely sad and cringe-worthy.