What went wrong here? Why didn't the directing talents of Gillespie, the charm of Scott, and the hilarity of Thornton add up to make a perfect comedy? The secret to this deadpan (but not in a good way) comedy is the piss-poor writing by two guys who have since gone on to do nothing. Hell, Thornton and Scott were actually worried about this film ending their careers WHILE it was being filmed! That's got to tell you at least one thing: do NOT see Mr. Woodcock.