Review: "The Slammin' Salmon" and "The Missing Person"

Some days the festival mojo never quite kicks in, as it was on Thursday with a series of near-misses and  almost-rans. I made my way to the top of Main Street to the Treasure Mountain Inn, home of the Slamdance Film Festival. Straight away the vibe seems different, more homespun and with none of the pressure and free-floating anxiety that marks much of Sundance. (Although truth be told, the seating risers and video projection presentation do leave something to be desired.) Three members of the Broken Lizard comedy team were in the lobby, greeting friends and well-wishers before a screening of their latest film "The Slammin' Salmon."

Broken Lizard made their mark at Sundance, first with "Puddle Cruiser" and then with "Super Troopers," which would go on to be a cult hit on cable and home video, before moving on to bigger, studio-funded projects. During the post-screening Q&A, member Steve Lemme pointedly remarked that "Salmon" finds them "returning to our indie roots," as they found financing for the film themselves and shot it during last year's writers strike from a script they already had.

This time out the film is directed by member Kevin Heffernan, following the events of one evening at a Miami restaurant owned by a former boxing champion. Part workplace comedy, part freewheeling farce, the film makes for a pleasantly funny diversion but lacks the punch of surprise of the Broken Lizard's best work. Hopefully this isn't a sign of creative wheel-spinning, but merely a make-work stop-gap before their next major project.

Later I caught "The Missing Person," which stars newly minted Oscar nominee Michael Shannon. Written and directed by Noah Buschel, the film is a conceit in search of movie. Shannon plays a booze-soaked private eye who seems to have stepped right from the pages of a Dashiell Hammett pulp story. Except he lives in the modern day, as signaled by the ringing cellphone which wakes him from sleep at the film's opening.

Shannon's flaky, moody performance is something to watch, and Amy Ryan (also an executive producer), Frank Wood and Liza Weil round out the cast with a palpable sense of zesty fun, but it never all quite adds up. The film has a somnabulent, downcast mood which while true to itself makes for an arduous sit.

-- Mark Olsen

(Photo: Michael Shannon. Credit: Getty Images)