'Employee' is without merit
You know what ``Employee of the Month" needs? Chimps. Not just as cardboard decoration, the way Jessica Simpson functions in Dane Cook's big star vehicle. No, the movie needs chimps acting in it, producing it, directing it, writing the music, providing the catering, doing the marketing, and promoting it on Leno. Otherwise, it's a movie about adults whose lives revolve entirely around a New Mexico superstore. And no matter how many times a character gets whacked in the head, hit in the groin, or called lame, slutty, stupid, or gassy, the whole thing feels like a tragedy.
As entire towns turn Wal-Marts into meccas, maybe it's only right that the movies serve us up characters whose greatest bliss involves coming to work and competing for an ``employee of the month" accolade. Zack the superslacker (Cook) and weaselly Vince (Dax Shepard) are the contestants. The prize is a ``newish" Chevy Nova. But Simpson, a buxom but lifeless checkout girl, is who they're really competing for.
None of the other employees seems to want the honor -- not Vince's Mexican manservant (Efren ``Vote for Pedro" Ramirez); not Semi, the big dumb black security guard (Marcello Thedford); not the Middle Eastern guy (Brian George) with the large, rambunctious family. But everyone is happy to stand around and cheer on the two comedians whose names appear above the title. Ain't that America?
Perhaps ``Employee of the Month," which was typed then directed by Greg Coolidge, is unfolding in the key of satire. But you'd have to be a dog to hear it. This is a movie (yet another one) smitten with the adolescent adult. See a 34-year-old stand-up comedy star ride his Heelys down warehouse aisles and his mini-motorbike to the house he shares with grandma. See him play a round of rock-paper-scissors. See him scream, ``Jinx! You owe me a Coke!" when he and his famously divorced co star say a line of dialogue at the same time.
Little resembling Cook's popular stage material makes it into the film. In this bait and switch, he just tries to look adorable for the many close-ups. What animal magnetism he has in his concerts never arrives. Tim Bagley, as the flaming closet-case store manager, and Andy Dick give off a more intense sexual oomph.
To Cook's credit, though, this character is as pseudo-rebellious as his act. The comedian's enthusiasm for speeding through a bulk-item megastore in a race to please his corporate masters might endear him, anecdotally, to Hollywood producers and executives, but it's sad and never very funny. Chimps, though? Chimps would have been a riot.
Wesley Morris can be reached at wmorris@globe.com. 
