A swamp of wasted comic ingenuity, Run Ronnie Run has about 10 minutes of clever, even hilarious parody to its name before being cleaned out of laughs. For the remainder of the time, this Sundance handout spun off from David Cross and Bob Odenkirk's hilarious HBO program Mr. Show With Bob and David, stumbles along, confusing with trendy and audacious all the infantile throwaways and pop culture references that it tediously stretches to frame its running time. Camouflaged behind a bulletproof mullet, Cross plays the Ronnie in question, a beer-gorging deadbeat hayseed who whiles away the hours wreaking havoc on his Georgia hometown. His exploits are caught on tape by a Cops-like reality show called Fuzz, and he's noticed by pathetic infomercial personality/inventor Terry Twillstein, played by an astute Bob Odenkirk, who sees Ronnie's popularity with lowbrow viewers. He promotes the idea to TV executives for a show in which he is arrested in a different city each week. The show becomes phenomenally successful, making Ronnie rich and famous, surprise surprise.
But while the text isn't up to Mr. Show's lofty benchmark, some big laughs do emerge, as when Hollywood stars beseech Ronnie to rob them, or when Ronnie's one semblance of soul-searching on death row involves his last meal: waffles, squarely nosing out corn dogs. Cross and Odenkirk, who ultimately disowned this movie, hardly reproduce a shred of the wit of any one of various sundry sketches from their show, but David Koechner has some time here to do his thing as an illiterate alcoholic redneck moron and Sarah Silverman Program regular Brian Posehn is one of the writers.
Ronnie's guilelessness is essentially a one-dimensional gag. Cross can be hilarious, but he's just more fitting when he's bald. Here his act is eclipsed by the innumerable celebrity cameos such as Jack Black, Trey Parker and Matt Stone, John and Rebecca Romijn Stamos, Ben Stiller, Jeff Goldblum, Mandy Patinkin, Kathy Griffin, etc., and episodes which don't follow at all from the premises, including one that reveals the "gay conspiracy" overseen by Patrick Warburton and forces them to give up their plot for world domination. It's completely non-sequitary in the film, and it's particularly memorable.
But while the text isn't up to Mr. Show's lofty benchmark, some big laughs do emerge, as when Hollywood stars beseech Ronnie to rob them, or when Ronnie's one semblance of soul-searching on death row involves his last meal: waffles, squarely nosing out corn dogs. Cross and Odenkirk, who ultimately disowned this movie, hardly reproduce a shred of the wit of any one of various sundry sketches from their show, but David Koechner has some time here to do his thing as an illiterate alcoholic redneck moron and Sarah Silverman Program regular Brian Posehn is one of the writers.
Ronnie's guilelessness is essentially a one-dimensional gag. Cross can be hilarious, but he's just more fitting when he's bald. Here his act is eclipsed by the innumerable celebrity cameos such as Jack Black, Trey Parker and Matt Stone, John and Rebecca Romijn Stamos, Ben Stiller, Jeff Goldblum, Mandy Patinkin, Kathy Griffin, etc., and episodes which don't follow at all from the premises, including one that reveals the "gay conspiracy" overseen by Patrick Warburton and forces them to give up their plot for world domination. It's completely non-sequitary in the film, and it's particularly memorable.