Do actors know when they’re in a cult film? They must, right? I mean, even if you didn’t know from reading the script, you’d certainly get the hint when the director instructed, “ok, instead of method acting or reacting or whatever your process, I want you to behave as if everything you learned in life you got from a box of cereal.” Even if you didn’t receive that instruction, there’s a point at which you realize you’re ten scenes into filming and the titular character has literally grunted all of his dialogue. At that point, you must know you’re in a cult film, right?
Someone who is no stranger to cult film is Aubrey Plaza. I could -almost successfully- argue that her entire film career has been in the cult realm. Personally, I think every.single.name actor in the world should attach themselves to a cult film at least once in their careers, like a lawyer doing doing pro bono work. Aubrey plays Lulu Danger, wife of weaselly coffee shop manager Shane Danger (Emile Hirsch). Description-wise, “weaselly” is being kind to Shane, a man who has his wife fired from the coffee shop on a false premise and then organizes a cadre of his remaining work stiffs to steal money from his brother-in-law.
The disguise to fool the brother-in-law during the robbery? A blonde American Girl doll wig and sunglasses. If your cross-town brother-in-law robbed you at gunpoint in a blonde Kit Kittredge wig and sunglasses would you be fooled? That’s what this film is like. A lot.
After bro-in-law enlists the help of vigilante-on-the-spot, Colin (Jemaine Clement), Lulu seizes the opportunity to grab the cash and split for An Evening with Beverly Luff Linn, for one magical night only. While Aubrey is 50 shades of abrasive by herself, the direction here only calls for her to use two or three levels. She mostly plays an aloof fangirl after escaping with Colin and the money. Fangirl to what, exactly? We are sure of nothing except that Beverly Luff Linn has some sort of hypnotic hold on Lulu.
This film is mostly silly people doing silly things. Movie motivations are comically obvious to everyone *except* those on screen. Costume design sets the mood for every scene. Among the many “WHAT THE HELL?!?!” moments in this film are tootsie roll cocktails, dryer sex, an argument over the gender implied by the name “Beverly,” and yet, nothing will quite prepare you for the fact that Beverly Luff Linn himself (Craig Robinson) grunts all his dialogue. I’m neither kidding nor exaggerating.
I’ve spent the last hour trying to decide what makes a cult film. Is it a comedy where nobody tells a joke? Is it a movie that cannot be properly appreciated by a contemporary audience? For now, I’ll define it thusly: a generally unappreciated or heavily critiqued film with no obvious or discernible outward appeal that, nonetheless, is disproportionately and avidly adored by a small subset of viewers. I have no doubt the An Evening with Beverly Luff Linn will only appeal to a small subset of viewers, but I’m pretty sure that subset will be gaga for it.
There once was a great mystery
Who went by the name “Beverly”
Appearing before eyes
A magical surprise
Grunt grunt grunt grunt grunt, you see?
Rated R, 108 Minutes
Director: Jim Hosking
Writer: Jim Hosking, David Wike
Genre: Culty cult cult-de-sac
Type of being most likely to enjoy this film: My guess? The Aubrey Plaza fan club, whomever they may be
Type of being least likely to enjoy this film: People with low thresholds
