'Arizona' finds itself in a state of squandered comic horror
<h3 class="briefHead">"Arizona" - ★ ★ </h3>
When it comes to something worthwhile to say, the bleakly black and blood-red comedy "Arizona" turns out to be as barren and deserted as its desolate suburban landscape.
"Arizona" takes place following the economic crash of 2008. America, represented by a new, gated suburban community in the Grand Canyon State, now resembles a post-apocalyptic set with virtual tumbleweeds rolling around abandoned houses.
Early on, a despondent homeowner hangs himself from a ceiling fan. It gives way, sparing his life. But then it falls and smashes his face.
Having firmly set its dark, Wile E. Coyote cartoon tone, "Arizona" tells the story of a single mom real estate agent, Cassie (Rosemarie DeWitt), whose own house is underwater in the troubled financial times.
She tries to raise her difficult teenage daughter Morgan (Lolli Sorenson) without much help from her loutish ex-husband (Luke Wilson), all while pitching never-finished homes to understandably disinterested buyers.
Her problems multiply exponentially after a disgruntled homeowner named Sonny (Danny McBride) bursts into her real estate office and, in a rage, kills her gleefully chauvinistic boss (an uncredited Seth Rogen).
Dazed and confused, Sonny takes Cassie hostage until he figures out what to do. And figuring out things clearly isn't his strongest skill set.
"Arizona," an interesting but underwhelming directorial debut from Jonathan Watson, quickly abandons its darkly comic appraisal of capitalism (Sonny thinks his invention of wine ice cubes will make him rich) and morphs into a routine killing-spree horror tale.
Homicidal Sonny knocks off a roster of supporting characters (one being David Alan Grier's bombastic cowboy sheriff) while chasing Cassie and Morgan through the ghost town subdivision.
McBride squanders an ideal opportunity to stretch and demonstrate how unnervingly scary he can be as a deranged, unpredictable psychopath.
Instead, he gives us his standard-issue McBride character, a blustery, combustible combo of id and ego laced with unrealized stupidity.
The always authentic DeWitt maintains professional poise even while running for her life in a skimpy bra.
Presumably, screenwriter Luke Del Tredici intended that to be something other than a metaphor for community support.
<b>Starring:</b> Rosemarie DeWitt, Danny McBride, Luke Wilson, David Alan Grier, Elizabeth Gillies
<b>Directed by:</b> Jonathan Watson
<b>Other:</b> An RLJE Films release. Not rated; contains coarse language, violence. At the Woodridge 18 and available On Demand. 85 minutes