'Paul Blart: Mall Cop 2': Bargain Basement Bull

Popcorn Column by Michael S. Goldberger

Columbia Pictures  Kevin James keeps the mean streets of the mall safe in the retread comedy 'Paul Blart: Mall Cop 2.'

Mrs. Goldberger taught me nothing if not to be a snob. But I think if I were sitting at her kitchen table, having endless cups of coffee, puffing on cigarettes (we all smoked then) and discussing "Paul Blart: Mall Cop 2," she'd laugh and, in her European accent, say, "He's so silly, and he needs to lose weight badly. But he's brave, and he loves his daughter so much. She's a little overweight already, too. She should watch. The second wife left him after six days, no? Poor guy. He's not a real policeman, you know ... just in the mall. You like him?"

"Nah, but a few parts of his movie are funny. I probably laughed as much if not more than any of the mostly adolescent audience, not because it was funny, but out of bemusement, finding it curious what the filmmaker thought was comical. They're going for the lowest common denominator, and where they think that resides is pretty nutty in itself. The hypocritical thing is, it'd be politically incorrect to say Blart was fat, yet you're urged to laugh at his appearance."

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That's pretty much how it would go. And if Mom asked if I were hungry and wanted some potato latkes, a nod of affirmation would have her whipping up those fritters in just a few nanoseconds while I expounded further. There's nothing like the smell of world class potato pancakes bubbling in oil to stir the scholarly juices and make all critical pursuits achievable. I'd note that Kevin James' title character draws on the classical, heroic poor slob in comedy- the archetype molded to sad sack perfection by Buster Keaton.

I'd be stopped short there. "Oh, Buster Keaton ... such a sad face. He's no Buster Keaton. Buster Keaton was really funny ... not make-believe funny like him."

"I know, Ma. I'm just saying he aspires to that style of comic characterization."

(Psst! Mom knows what I'm saying. She just wants me to elaborate with a bit more intellectual panache, exercise the gray matter, if you will.)

She might then add, "He was skinny, Keaton. Maybe too skinny. Eat, or you'll be too skinny"

"The thing is, and I feel a little bad about it, I don't particularly like Paul Blart, whereas at least a modicum of empathy is necessary if the loveable loser is to be a successful example of his comedy phylum. The ceaseless self-aggrandizement, recurrently contradicted by proof of his ineptitude, and then again disputed by incongruously savvy sleuthing, an act of courage or dumb luck, is just hodgepodge, production line absurdity."

"But he loves his daughter."

"Precisely. Their relationship is the only constant in an erratic script. It's the legitimacy that's supposed to ameliorate a very thinly written character, pun shamelessly intended. Satirizing the helicopter parents of the day, he is a mass of paranoia. All this makes for a few chuckles. But it grows old quickly. "

"She's a nice girl? Or is she crazy like her father, too?"

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