Sorry to Bother You

No apology is necessary for Sorry to Bother You, sort of a bizarre, higher-stakes version of Office Space with a Putney Swope-style cultural twist that feels fresh and vital.

Amid its outrageous premise and uneven execution, the visually inventive satire is laced with relevant and provocative socioeconomic observations, even if the film’s lofty ambition sometimes exceeds its grasp.

The story takes place in an alternate present-day Oakland, where Cassius (Lakeith Stanfield) is a slacker who becomes a telemarketer for a shady housing company. As he struggles to close sales, a beleaguered old colleague (Danny Glover) encourages him to use his “white voice” over the phone. “I’m talking Will Smith white,” he explains.

That does the trick — with Stanfield’s voice hilariously dubbed by David Cross — and soon Cassius earns a promotion upstairs to the firm’s exclusive legion of “power callers,” where he especially finds favor with a drugged-out executive (Armie Hammer) plotting a genetic experimentation project on the side aimed at usurping prolific Chinese manufacturers.

It hardly makes conventional sense. Along the way, Cassius is forced to choose between his struggling telemarketing colleagues and his new life of luxury. And between odd jobs, his activist girlfriend (Tessa Thompson) is leading protests against the company, citing unfair labor practices.

Eventually, the whole thing spirals into a surreal series of nightmares and gross-out hallucinations while satirizing broader targets such as reality television, contemporary rap music, and media sensationalism.

The film marks a sharp directorial debut for Boots Riley, a political activist and erstwhile member of the Oakland hip-hop collective The Coup. It also provides another showcase for the versatility of Stanfield (Get Out), whose flawed character isn’t an easy target for sympathy. Meanwhile, Hammer likewise is terrific as an unhinged racist and the personification of capitalist greed.

Riley’s screenplay has a basis in social truths behind its often absurd comic scenarios. Its perceptive subtext includes an intriguing moral dilemma about selling out — putting a price tag on your cultural identity — and how it subtly fits into a perception about upward career mobility among minorities in white-collar environments.

Although it’s overstuffed with eccentricities, Sorry to Bother You is consistently compelling with its persuasive cynicism toward stereotypical corporate avarice and its offbeat compassion for those hoping to turn a quick buck. The message isn’t always clear, but at least it’s delivered with conviction.

Rated R, 105 minutes.