Git-r-done.

Did you laugh? Did you even smile? Did you instantly think of Jeff Foxworthy because you can never actually remember this guy's name?

Did you respond at all?

The answer to this question determines whether or not you should see "Larry the Cable Guy: Health Inspector." Okay, it kind of determines it. The reality is that even diehard fans of "Larry the Cable Guy" will grow tired of his blue collar, "Git-r-done" approach to comedy by the time the 89th minute of this essentially one-note comedy rolls around.

This film is not classic comedy. It is not unique comedy. It is not inventive, well-written or particularly original comedy. It is "Larry the Cable Guy" as we've always seen him. The closing credits even offer repeated sayings of "Git-r-done" said in different, yet amazingly similar ways.

"Larry the Cable Guy: Health Inspector" is nothing more than a showcase for this blue-collar, redneck comic icon whose "Git-r-done" catchphrase can be found in convenience stores across America on a wide variety of novelty items. Larry, I don't know his last name and don't particularly care, has parlayed that one sentence into a career based upon buttcracks, booze and that good ole' boy mentality that most of America seemingly identifies with en masse.

Apparently, however, the majority of America isn't quite ready to parlay this novelty William Hung like fame into a movie career. Sure, the 20 or so audience members at the film opening night laughed. Heck, it's hard not to laugh when a good ole' boy is working overtime to make himself look stupid (and succeeding). It's downright funny at times.

Stupid. Very stupid.

Still, kinda funny.

Man, why am I craving a Pabst Blue Ribbon right now?

Or a moon pie?

Larry is not an actor. Of course, he's not pretending to be. I admire that. Any film that titles itself after the lead actor is really being honest...this ain't about drama folks...it's about laughs. Nothing more.

The semblance of a storyline evolves around Larry working as a health inspector. He finds himself in trouble time and time again until he's assigned a partner, the androgynous looking Amy Butlin (Iris Bahr). Butlin isn't particularly male looking, but I suppose to a good ole' boy any woman without huge breasts probably doesn't qualify as a real woman. Larry repeatedly, to the point of exhaustion, refers to Butlin as a boy...long past the time when he's even acknowledged she's a girl.

Just plain weird.

The city, headed by Mayor Gunn (Joe Pantoliano), is getting ready for the All-City Cook-Off, or whatever it was called, yet one-by-one the finest restaurants in the city fall prey to odd incidents of unexplained illnesses, etc.

Okay, I'm stopping here with the plot. It's predictable and, to be honest, completely irrelevant.

This is about Larry the Cable Guy.

He's charming enough here, but the situations are so beyond ludicrous that it's hard to ever bond with him. In fact, director Trent Cooper never really allows anything emotional into the film at all. Everything is essentially staged only for the purpose of another Larry joke.

Occasionally, these jokes are funny. They never, however, mean anything.

In supporting performances, Iris Bahr (you've seen her mostly on TV in shows like "Commander in Chief" and "Curb Your Enthusiasm) is mildly amusing. Pantoliano throws out a lazy, caricature performance as the underhanded mayor, and Megyn Price is functional as Jane, Larry's way too good for him but hopelessly insecure woman.

Of course, any film centered around a "star" inevitably includes cameos by the star's "celebrity" friends. Larry throws in moments for Kid Rock and Bruce Bruce, along with a funny yet poorly edited appearance by comedienne Lisa Lampanelli.

The film itself is remarkably poorly edited, including two visible deadspots. The end result is nothing more than a film centered around "Git-r-done" that will quickly lead to getting 'er out of the theatres rather quickly and onto DVD where the closet Larry fans can rent the film and snicker in the comfort of their own homes while downing moon pies and PBR.
 
Richard Propes
The Independent Critic