This film is filed in "Comedy" at the library. It's about as funny as baby Jesus with taint cancer. So, kinda funny.
Our story concerns a Scottish ha' wit who works in the food service industry and practices his brogue with the world's worst human (next to Donald Trump, James Cameron and Amy Carter). Here he is reading this blog. Expression look familiar, people?
In the first minutes, the main guy whose name I'm too bored to look up at the moment, loses his wife in a Hallmark car accident--a few jump-cuts, a surprised expression, and then a funeral scene. If only all our deaths could be so easy and convenient!
(The above screencap is extremely boring, in order to capture the "flavor" of this movie. Get it? I just "served up" a restaurant pun poo poo platter!)
But now that Chef Dude is bereft, he's super attractive to all the ladies in the audience. So goes the theory. After being in the dumps for a few unspecified years, Chef Dude decides to round up his old team and open up a new gourmet restaurant, and then accidentally gets them blown up...
Wait. That's MacGruber.
Do you ever find yourself playing another movie in your mind while watching a bad movie? It's a great coping mechanism. It might even save your life. Anyway, we're soon into major fucking eyeroll territory when Chef Dude meets a restaurant critic who not only happens to be a) gorgeous b) age appropriate but also c) slinkily available. HAPPENS ALL THE TIME
White people problems immediately ensue. The local health inspector wants to shut them down, and a television critic (the BBC must really be hard up for programming--don't they know they can just run reality shows about rich, giggling cunts?) comes to sample the wares.
The critic is completely drunk, taunting the audience with the possibilities of their own inebriation. Something something happens. Love this. Love that. And then the whole thing ends where there's this gigantic fireball and a grown man in a diaper that...
Yes, that will do quite well. Ahhhhh.
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