Film Review – ‘The Goods’ Ain’t That Bad

Being based in the UK and not really being a proper film critic means I only get to see films a few days before release. Thus the critical consensus for a film is usually all wrapped up way before I get to put my two cents worth in.


In the case of ‘The Goods: Live Hard, Sell Hard’, the new comedy from Will Ferrell and chums, the critical consensus has been in for months. And the verdict; this movie sucks a huge fat one.

Not for the first time in my illustrious career, I beg to differ.

Take a gander in most movie magazines and this comedy about a used car salesman (Jeremy Piven) and his team of big sellers will be beset with the tyranny of ‘OneStar’ Review. Now a ‘OneStar’ movie is almost an impressive in its self.

To have absolutley no redeeming features in a movie that has trekked the tricky path from script to screen, without anyone tapping someone on the shoulder and pointing out what a piece of shit the film is, is applaudable.

But this is by no means a ‘OneStar’ movie. So much is my love for Jeremy Piven that I’d give it an extra star just for giving him 80% of the screentime. The rest of the cast of familiar faces from ‘The American Office’, ‘The Daily Show’ and ‘Arrested Devleopment’ all have enough funny bones in their bodies to make even some of the worst parts of the script sniggersome.

At times its a mess, some jokes fall flatter than Keira Knightleys chest (like that ‘joke’ there) and whenever the ‘story’ kicks in it all becomes a little too taxing. And to be perfectly honest the humour is as crass as you can get but, hey, crass can be funny.

That I found it far funnier than either ‘Step Brothers’ or ‘Talledega Nights’ might be down to my low expectations going in, so this fairly glowing review may have the adverse effect on you.

But when some comedies fail to even add jokes (‘Couples Retreat’ I’m looking at you) if the best ‘The Goods’ has is a Disk Jockey called DJ Request that gets insanely angry when someone has the audacity to ask him to play a specific song or Ving Rhames hollering, “James Van Der Beek, my nigga!” while watching Dawsons Creek, well, it’s enough for me.