THE FOOT FIST WAY Review

His wife’s confession shakes loose the moorings that have allowed Fred to live in a magical fairyland of denial and self-delusion for many years, if not his entire life. Self-doubt threatens to crack his self-confidence.

Fred becomes even more profane in his verbal expressions, and begins to manifest his anger in physical outbursts as well; he takes out his frustration on a kid he thinks is the son of his wife’s boss. He doesn’t lose any friends as a result, but only because he doesn’t have any. He has three devoted followers instead, all young Tae Kwon Do students, who are hero-worshiping, unquestioning acolytes. They accept his insults as a necessary evil on the path to greater martial arts abilities.

The unlikely foursome travels out of town for the opportunity to see Fred’s hero, Chuck “The Truck” Wallace (played by co-writer Ben Best), a giddy combination of every martial artist who followed in Chuck Norris’ footsteps. In the same way that Hollywood is like high school with money, “The Truck” represents every success that Fred only thinks he’s achieved. “The Truck” earns big bucks for making personal appearances, is popular and beloved, and draws women like flies to crap. He’s every bit the jerk that Fred is, a smidgen more tolerable only because of that money.

What makes any of this funny?

That’s the same question I asked myself the first time I laughed hard at a cheap physical gag. I think it’s funny only because Fred Simmons is so far over the top—socially incorrect in everything he does, an obvious overbearing boor—that it’s difficult to take offense. I can’t recall any jokes; all the humor is character-based, and in that sense The Foot Fist Way is one of the most devastating character studies to come down the pike in recent years. I laughed because the physical gags come out of left field, and I laughed because Fred takes himself so seriously that it’s impossible to do likewise.

Co-writers McBride, Best, and Jody Hill jam the script with enough profanity to rival Tarantino at his foulest, without resorting to the “n-word.” Hill, who also directed, has a good sense of comic timing, and has a few tricks up his sleeve to punctuate the laughs. He pushes things right to the edge of self-consciousness without venturing into self-parody.

My one big complaint is that the energy level seriously flags after Fred meets “The Truck.” There are dead spots that feel terribly long, which is almost disastrous because they allow time to reflect on Fred, and he’s no one you want to spend too much time thinking about.

Fortunately, one of the film’s more inspired comedy bits explodes just in time to get the pace moving again in the right direction, and from there it’s a smooth ride to the conclusion. But don’t worry; the filmmakers assiduously avoid the Hollywood-style sentimental redemption, while still granting Fred a sliver of grace.

Related Links

• The Foot Fist Way - Official Site