Tenacious D in the Pick of Destiny - Horrible Movies

Squarely aimed at thirteen year olds who probably haven't been old enough to follow the entire history of this played-put mock-rock act, "Pick Of Destiny" is as rudimentary as modern cinema gets. As a critic, the positive side of the brain desires a more whimsical reading of the film, to establish that there's something charming about the fact the film looks like it cost $10 to make, including star Kyle Gass' lunch. Appropriately, it's from the mind of co-writer and director Liam Lynch, who last filmed the depressingly inert concert film "Sarah Silverman: Jesus Is Magic" and is otherwise known for such minimalist tomes as the minor pop hit "My United States Of Whatever" and the ingratiating MTV2 cult hit "The Sifl And Olly Show". It would be charitable to say that, for the love of mankind, Mr. Lynch would best be suited to never pick up a camera again.

Jack Black and Kyle Gass, too old for this, play the titular band, a duo in love with themselves as much as they are worshipful of the likes of Metallica, Ozzy and Ronnie James Dio, who delivers the best of the film's largely unfunny cameos. A preamble finds little Black running away from home to avoid his pushy father (Meatloaf- a wasted opportunity if there ever was one) to arrive in Hollywood, where he and street guitarist Gass (it's never said, but I suppose it's implicit that these guys are playing themselves- I wonder if they ever went on to meet the guitar store clerk who looks like Ben Stiller again) develop the legend of the band. Meant to resemble folklore, with interstitials displaying the duo as mythical heroes, the journey these two encounter is only as wild and wooly as their budget allows (which is to say, not much).

Essentially, they decide to take the shortcut to stardom, attempting to steal the pick of destiny, a guitar pick actually fashioned from Satan's front tooth. Along the way, a whole lot of nothing happens, and Sasquatch and Tim Robbins clock uneventful appearances before the duo infiltrates the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in a manner that's less easy and more narratively lazy. The attitude is essentially, hey, this whole thing's happening in a cloud of pot, so quit caring! Funny if Black and Gass weren't pass their sell-by dates. Never developing a comic rhythm during their failed HBO series and subsequent TV appearances, the two are best strumming along and singing to their would-be rock opuses that, in all fairness, reliably rank with the likes of modern joke hair-metal revivalists.

But as a comedic duo, these guys are a shade below Bill and Ted. Make that three shades. Blame Gass, an excellent guitarist who never developed the reliable comic chops to keep up with fellow comedic performers, and has always had the unkempt belly and undistinguished face of a nobody. Black is best when matched with someone who can counter his energy level (hence his successful team-ups with kids in "School of Rock", etc.), but together with deadweight, he overcompensates and becomes a joyless, unpleasant dervish of misplaced energy. This thing happens all the time and is the chief reason his career is so hit and miss- something as foolproof as his matchup with Stiller in "Envy" was the same result as Stiller purposely played small, to no one's benefit. Black has no shortage of celebrity friends that could have contributed, but the cameos are pretty incidental and the film is largely carried on the lack of chemistry between the two. Hell, even Will Ferrell didn't bother to show up this time.

Considering what Tenacious D has always represented, this should be a surprised. But as they've gone on to bigger fame than what should have initially been reserved for them, Gass has become a familiar face while Black has worked with the likes of Richard Linklater, Peter Jackson, Barry Levinson and Stephen Frears, you'd think there'd be an effort to gussy up a script likely written in chicken scratch. No such luck.