This is a thundering dud of unfunny that I turned off about half an hour in to. It stars the great (and I mean that) Danny McBride as a martial arts instructor who may have suffered one too many blows to the head in his career. McBride is normally hilarious (he easily stole many scenes in Tropic Thunder and that sounds impossible considering the level of insanity in that film) but here, in his debut, he sort of clunks along.
That's alright, because the film is one of those indie flicks that I have developed a sense for. It's the kind that is poorly written, shot, directed, and acted yet there are fans. Ardent fans too. The kind of fans who have difficulty understanding why Serenity is a schlocky, brutal slap in the face for everyone who loved Firefly. Different digression for another day.
My point is that if you've seen one bad indie film you have honestly seen them all, including this one. They include the same level of weak-to-awful acting, unenthusiastic staging or camera movements, comedy that lacks quality timing, and characters you have strong feelings for. Doesn't matter if you hate them - you at least feel something.
The only thing I felt after half an hour was ripped off and I got this via Netflix. Skip it.