Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar (2021, Josh Greenbaum)

I’m hesitant to describe Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar as an absurdist comedy because the “absurdities” always land perfectly. For example, the opening titles have paperboy Reyn Doi singing along to the entirety of Guilty (Barbara Streisand and The Bee Gees) and then getting into a tree elevator. By the time Doi gets to the tree elevator (which takes him to a James Bond villain lair), thanks to the song, Barb and Star has already made clear anything is possible.

The film intros the villains—Kristen Wiig, who has a form of albinism (with a silly name), and her henchmen, Roi and Jamie Dornan. Roi is her (kidnapped) adopted son, and Dornan is her hopeless devotee; he’ll do anything if she’ll just make their romance official. The villain setup comes before we even meet Barb and Star, Annie Mumolo, and (also) Wigg; they also wrote and co-produced the film, so one would assume they’d know how to script themselves. They do, of course, but as the writers, Mumolo and Wigg give all the parts–even the bit parts–apt showcases. There are a bunch of solid comedy cameos, like Wendi McLendon-Covey, Patrick Bristow, Vanessa Bauer, Phyllis Smith, and Michael Hitchcock. There are a couple more well-executed cameos throughout, even when the performances aren’t great because the joke’s in the delivery, the performer identity a bonus. The latter gets a smile, the former gets the laugh.

Mumolo and Wiig—I’m going to call villain Wiig villain Wiig whenever she comes up; otherwise, it’s regular Wiig—are a couple small-town gals who find themselves in a situation where they’ve got the disposable income to go on a resort vacation. They head off to Vista Del Mar, a vacation paradise tucked away on the Floridian coast, obviously not realizing villain Wiig’s plan to release killer mosquitos is nearing execution. Dornan’s on-site to get everything set, which will also require a second bad guy, an actually absurd Damon Wayans Jr. (he’s the only example of dragging a joke until it’s funny, but thanks to a master-of-disguise bit, it works out well). But after villain Wiig blows him off on their not-yet-official boyfriend and girlfriend phone call, he gets wasted with tourists Mumolo and Wiig.

Both Mumolo and Wiig sort of fall for Dornan, who’s not used to having women actually return his affections (whether romantic or platonic), and Barb and Star becomes a combination buddy picture, Bond spoof, romantic comedy, and self-empowerment journey. With the occasional musical number and a lot of sight gags. Mumolo and Wigg—as writers—have incredible timing with the humor and then act it accordingly, director Greenbaum either getting out of their way or giving them the support when needed. Steve Welch’s editing is the technical superstar. Whether it’s one of the musical numbers or a lengthy comedy set-piece, Welch’s cutting is flawless. The timing of it all—the writing, the acting, the editing—plus the perfect soundtrack, it’s superb.

And one of the reasons calling it absurdist seems reductive. Barb and Star is never reductive; it’s always going for the next joke or punchline, leveraging the somewhat folksy, not uncynical positivity of its protagonists. It’s an excellent comedy and an excellent showcase for Mumolo and Wigg as actors, writers, and producers.

Best performance is Mumolo. Just the way the love triangle and character development arcs shake out. Wiig’s also got two parts, and there are stretches where it seems one is getting more emphasis than the other. Dornan’s hilarious and good. Not like “see his Fifty Shades movies” good, but good. Doi’s great. He’s missed when he’s not around, but whenever he shows up, it always pays off, which tracks.

Barb and Star always pays off.

Best in Show (2000, Christopher Guest)

Best in Show is a masterpiece of editing. Guest’s direction is spectacular as well—the way he creates space for the performances—but it’s all about how Guest and editor Robert Leighton construct the narrative. Even in the second half, when Best in Show becomes a singular tour de force of buffoonery from Fred Willard, it’s all about the editing.

The film opens with an introduction to its cast–Show is a mockumentary about a fictional dog show, specifically the contestants (well, their humans) in the “Best in Show” category. For the first act, Show is going to go through a variety of comedic tones, ranging from the very acerbic (super-yuppies Parker Posey and Michael Hitchcock) to the nearly absurdist (Floridians Catherine O’Hara and Eugene Levy, with the Florida doing a lot of the lifting). Posey and Hitchcock are trying to get their Weimaraner (Sporting Group) mentally prepared for the big show (the dog’s been in a rut since walking in on them in the bedroom apparently), while O’Hara and Levy’s biggest problem is O’Hara running into one of her numerous ex-boyfriends, which causes Levy intense jealousy. Their dog, a Norwich (Terrier Group), probably has the least to do in the film.

Then there’s John Michael Higgins and Michael McKean, who have a Shih Tzu (Toy Group). They don’t have much melodrama in their story—I misremembered them at one point running into McKean’s ex-wife (who he left for Higgins), but no—and it’s mostly just Higgins being hilarious and McKean providing support for him. The dog’s adorable. They will be the most aware of the competition aspect of the prizes, with the previous winner their clear nemesis. The previous winner is a Standard Poodle (Non-Sporting Group), owned by trophy wife Jennifer Coolidge. Coolidge doesn’t do the training, instead having handler Jane Lynch do it. Since Coolidge and Lynch won the last two years, the film follows them the most of any of the groups once it’s dog show time.

Finally, there’s director Guest, who’s got the Bloodhound (Hound Group).

The first half of the film is the lead-up to the dog show, tracking the eventual contestants as they prepare and travel to the show. It’s a showcase for each of the actors, with Guest careful not to showoff his own performance too much. Technically, Guest playing a Southerner who loves his dog is probably the best technical performance. It’s seamless and sincere; Show’s very careful in how it joshes dog ownership. With Guest in particular, then probably Higgins and McKean, it does convey the emotional regard the owners have for the animals—no one’s going to be worse than Posey and Hitchcock (the scenes with Hitchcock berating the dog are simultaneously hilarious and horrifying to the point you hope the dog was deaf). Show’s very good at how it jokes about its characters and their eccentricities.

Other first half interviewees include Bob Balaban as the dog show president, Don Lake as the show floor supervisor, and Ed Begley Jr. as the hotel manager. Begley gets some of the best material in the film—as the only person outside the dog show world who isn’t an ex perving on O’Hara in front of Levy, he’s got the angle closest to—presumably—the viewer (not sure how Show plays to dog show contestants, though outside the the interviewees, everyone seems “normal”). But Begley gets to intersect with various characters; otherwise it’s chance encounters.

Once they get to the show proper, the film brings in Willard as one of the announcers—Jim Piddock is his hilariously suffering straight man—and Best in Show becomes the “Fred Willard Show,” in the best possible way. Willard’s profoundly, intentionally unaware host knows less about the dog show than anyone who’s watched the first half of the film; all the procedure and absurdity focuses on Willard and reflects out, with Willard’s ignorance giving the viewer a chance to know more about dog shows than the announcer. It’s a relatively easy idea but Willard’s so spectacular it becomes singular.

All of the performances are good, with O’Hara and Levy the standout couple—at one point they both have to do physical comedy and are superb—with Guest, Higgins, and Lynch all fantastic solo performances. Coolidge and Hitchcock are on the next tier, just based on material (though Coolidge’s lack of material is part of her joke), then I guess Posey and McKean. They’re both good, they just don’t have the best parts in their couples.

Guest’s direction—and the importance of the editing—comes through most in the first half, before the film can rely on Willard to move mountains; again, Best in Show is a comedy masterpiece, with Guest leveraging the cast’s abilities (not to mention his own) and he and Leighton’s phenomenal editing of the material. Roberto Schaefer’s photography is also excellent, although not as consequential to the film’s big successes. Some of the lighting is so good you wish the interview segment could go on longer just to showcase it.

While it may very well be possible for a comedy mockumentary to be better than Best in Show… it seems very unlikely. The film’s a (quietly) remarkable achievement.