Talladega Nights: the Ballad of Ricky Bobby

Directed by Adam McKay, Talladega Nights: the Ballad of Ricky Bobby follows Will Ferrell’s title character as he experiences a series of ups and downs within the cutthroat world of NASCAR racing. It’s fun, easygoing subject matter that’s employed to distressingly hit-and-miss effect by McKay, as the filmmaker, armed with his and Ferrell’s screenplay, delivers a sluggish and palpably padded-out endeavor that’s as tiresome as it is hilarious – with the erratic atmosphere compounded (and perpetuated) by a continuing emphasis on obviously-improvised encounters and bits of comedy. (There is, for example, an early dinner-table scene that just seems to go on forever as the various performers continuously riff to fairly uninspired and unfunny effect.) The picture’s tolerable atmosphere, then, stems from its smattering of genuinely hilarious set-pieces (eg Ricky is convinced he’s lost the use of his legs) and the charismatic, engaging work of its actors, although, in terms of the latter, Sacha Baron Cohen seems entirely (and woefully) out of his depth as the film’s central villain (ie he generally appears to be struggling to keep up with the off-the-cuff antics of his costars). By the time the prolonged (and rather tedious) race-focused climax rolls around, Talladega Nights: the Ballad of Ricky Bobby has cemented its place as a disappointing comedy in dire, desperate need of some serious trimming and editing.

** out of ****

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