The sketch-comedy-to-horror pipeline has always existed, but it’s currently red-hot. Obsession, Barbarian, Get Out, Hell Baby, Club Dread. All these titles were conceptualized and directed by famous jesters who took the genre by storm (or in Broken Lizard’s and Hell Baby’s case, had a blast doing their thing). New York comedy troupe Simple Town are the latest to hop genres with their Fantasia Festival premiere, Big Break, although they opt for a metatextual brand of storytelling. Samuel Lanier pens a script about Simple Town, where everyone plays themselves but are found in exaggerated horror-comedy circumstances. It’s a gamble that leans on the chemistry of members and their improvisational chops versus supernatural thrills, which only succeeds because … well, Simple Town knows funny.
In this fictional, say parallel Simple Town universe, Sam broke into Hollywood by scripting a wildly successful Gummy Bears movie. Caroline Yost, Felipe Di Poi Tamargo, and Will Niedmann feel left behind until they receive an invitation from Sam to reunite at his vacation home. The three Townies accept, but not solely to yuck it up with the brainwashed Los Angeles version of their fourth musketeer. Caroline and the others scheme how to delicately broach a possible role in the upcoming Gummy Bears sequel Sam is currently stressing over. Peach Ring, Gummy Shark, any role would suffice—but before they can seal the deal, the night takes an unexpectedly violent turn.
At Big Break’s core is the crisis of any struggling artist, unleashing the jealousy monster that lives inside us all. Sam’s overnight success juxtaposes against the open can of dog food in Caroline’s car (that she swears she didn’t eat), or Felipe’s inability to relate to women his age as he’s stuck chasing dreams. For every front-page celebrity, there are twenty more souls who’ve yet to find stardom, and Big Break is not only an ode to that dangerous desire, but also to what it can corrupt. Sam could change his friends’ lives with a phone call, and yet no doors have been opened. Caroline, Felipe, and Will don’t want to offend their now big-shot friend, yet convince themselves they’re owed professional generosity—a recipe that thankfully, for us, ends in disaster.
Granted, Big Break is a showcase for Simple Town’s banter. Director Ian Faria holds to the architecture of a satirical showbiz satire, but how scenes flow is largely dependent on how conversations develop. Tension is first rooted in who will be the first to spill their intentions to Sam and how it’ll be received. As the quartet roasts each other, laments their ho-hum existences, and argues about who deserves what, Big Break stays within the group’s wheelhouse. It’s heavier on the “comedy” aspect of horror-comedies, which might be a struggle for those who crave harsher bites from their genre fare.
However, Big Break successfully sprinkles in a few chills. There’s a serial killer on the loose in the area of Sam’s isolated estate, and yet the farcical, on-screen Simple Town is too busy trying to scam their way into the next Gummy Bears entry to care. On a small scale, it draws comparisons to Apple TV’s The Studio in the way it addresses Hollywood (and its Kool-Aid Man adaptation), but with a more independent mindset. Caroline, Felipe, and Will score easy laughs as they tiptoe around what they want to ask Sam, but then, when their motivations are clear to Sam, desperation kicks in. Caroline tests horrendous voice samples for Sam, Felipe exhibits zero chill when pitching Sam, and Will … well, he comes off as doofy and innocent. This is all while Sam is preoccupied, not giving any of them his full attention, which only makes their attempts even sillier in the moment.
That said, Big Break is hit-and-miss when it comes to extended bits. That’s doubly true during a cutthroat third act where pleasant ribbing amongst buddies becomes dire threats and potential for blackmail. Simple Town earns its lighthearted laughs, testing the boundaries of friendships in platonic nepotism terms, but the darker humor later on is met with standard killer-in-the-woods traits that are less fulfilling. It’s all tied together, as paranoia heightens with the increasingly disturbing events on screen, but there’s something about Simple Town’s dancing around secrets that’s more amusing before said secrets are revealed. I don’t want to say much more for spoiler purposes, just how I felt more engaged with the slightly off-kilter goofballs of Simple Town before everything goes all stabby and gory as we’ve seen before.
Kudos to Simple Town for breaking through the horror-comedy barrier by sticking to their signature style of humor. Big Break is at times heartwarming, often brings the jokes, and works as a microchasmic take on getting your foot in the door by any means necessary. It’s not airtight—certain gags soar while others whimper—but overall, Simple Town wins us over by staying true to their name and keeping things simple. Maybe it’s a botched salad prep, a confusingly poured cocktail, or the ignorance of fame seekers missing a parade of red flags. Through it all, Simple Town strives to make us laugh while releasing what are probably shared frustrations about hitting the Hollywood jackpot.
Their pain, either fortunately or unfortunately, ends up being our pleasure.
Movie Score: 3/5