All You Can Eat

To be blunt, I had low expectations and deep reservations from the first moment I came across this. There are some recognizable names and faces involved; in the very least, I place significant trust in Ashley Johnson. Yet even with minimal information from the outside looking in, one can only assume the title is going to be rife with fatphobic language and jokes that punch down. The first minutes are definitely not encouraging as an unnecessary narrator pokes fun at the protagonist's weight (unfortunately, he comes back at the end), and the length to follow seems rather insistent about spotlighting Ben's eating habits in a way that feels far too judgmental and even mocking. More than that, too many scenes very distinctly, very emphatically do zero in on the most fatphobic of jokes and gags, and we can't escape them even over the end credits. And well, even if we set aside the most unsavory facets, which to be honest comprise a substantial portion of the runtime, 'All you can eat' has one major problem: it is all too desperately unfunny. There are fleeting rare moments of cleverness. It earns a smile a few times. I even laughed! Thrice! However, inspiring three laughs total in ninety minutes does not a comedy make. Furthermore, a faint effort at being wry and quirky in the classic indie manner just doesn't cut it, and cheap toilet humor, jokes about anatomy, and sex jokes are right out. I'm sorry to say that this is just not very good.

On the other hand, there are also increasing instances when the picture can claim a welcome earnestness that's a bit heartwarming, or just as likely, heartbreaking. Quiet character moments allow an emotional center to peek through in fits and starts as Ben struggles with the trials and tribulations of life, and those around him either contribute ponderously to the malaise or possibly help to mitigate it. This is, it turns out, a comedy-drama, and one with strong romantic elements. The more 'All you can eat' focuses on that innermost sincerity, and storytelling with characters and scenes that we can relate to and sympathize with, the better it is. Yet to be frank the script even finds a way to muck this up, for some such moments are paired with more of the intended comedy that just doesn't work.

This is clearly an indie, low-budget production, and I begrudge no one any limitations that the film may betray of its resources. What I do have an issue with is filmmaker Rob Margolies' curious fascination with the first-person perspective, arranging many scenes of dialogue such that we see the protagonist's scene partner as he would, head-on. This idea would not be a bad one in and of itself in a different movie, but in a title such as this, let alone one in which so much of the screenplay just falls flat, it only feels self-indulgent; there was but a single instance such use that I thought was appreciable on its own merits. Elsewhere the direction feels marginally weak, or unpracticed, though for the most part it's sufficient to tie all the parts together. Though, considering the questionable pages of what Margolies penned with Jon Dabach, there's not much to tie together.

For what it's worth, I do like the cast, and even though the direction impacts the acting in turn, I think everyone gives a solid performance. I know what a terrific actress Johnson is, and even though the material she's given as Liza is so-so, she does a fine job with it. Lilli Stein shines in her small supporting part, and Jessie Carter is the unsung hero as her character, Kenzie, benefits from both her skills and some of the best writing on hand. Zachery Byrd, playing Ben, gets the most time on-screen and also suffers most from the faults in the feature, but I recognize ability that I'd like to see flourish elsewhere. And, hey, those operating behind the scenes did good work all around; some of the ends to which their contributions were guided is another matter, but the labor in and of itself is swell. All this is well and good. But still we return to humor that almost entirely unfunny, a glaring plethora of inclusions that are altogether offensive or inappropriate, and best potential - the most honest and heartfelt scenes and dialogue that the picture has to offer - that is itself underrepresented, and sometimes just treated poorly.

If Margolies and Dabach had approached the concept more thoughtfully, it could have worked. Despite all the misgivings I had long before I sat to watch, there was a real possibility of this being good and worthwhile. Instead it too often flounders, and some of the more genuine facets of the film just kind of float out, untethered, into the void as there is no substance to anchor them. I don't abjectly hate 'All you can eat,' for I see the hard work that went into it, and the capability and intelligence inherent in what it could have been. "Could have been" is the key phrase, however, for regrettably, as it presents, this is middling at best. Better luck next time.