Breaking News in Yuba County
Overdosing on quirks and squandering an eclectic ensemble cast, Breaking News in Yuba County is so busy trying to be clever that it forgets to be funny.
An uninspired small-town satire about public scandal and media sensationalism, this uneven crime comedy from director Tate Taylor (The Help) strives for an absurdist charm but instead drowns in contrivances and narrative incoherence.
The real Yuba County is in northern California, which is presumably where the story is set. It centers on Sue Buttons (Allison Janney), a lonely suburban housewife seeking recognition from her husband, bank manager Karl (Matthew Modine), on her birthday.
Instead, she tracks him to a sleazy motel, where an embarrassing transgression has left him dead. So she buries the body in shame, but decides to capitalize on the incident by declaring him missing to her half-sister (Mila Kunis), a news reporter in need of a scoop.
Sue’s public cry for attention gains headlines as she tearfully “searches” for her husband’s whereabouts. When a police detective (Regina Hall) becomes suspicious, her colleagues insist the story is authentic.
As Sue charts an elaborate and misguided plea for sympathy and revenge, she winds up learning the truth about Karl’s secret life, which comes with more consequences than she bargained for.
It turns out Karl had been laundering money through a local crime syndicate, which leaves a wannabe gangster (Awkwafina) and her partner (Clifton Collins Jr.) chasing Sue for unpaid debts.
Janney does most of the heavy lifting by offering an emotional entry point for moviegoers while spouting self-help mantras. The supporting cast includes Ellen Barkin, Juliette Lewis, and Wanda Sykes, who steals a few scenes.
However, rookie screenwriter Amanda Idoko serves up a handful of amusing throwaway gags without providing incentive to root for any of these sad-sack losers and unscrupulous schemers.
As the coincidences and contradictions pile up, the film tries to blend brutal violence and deadpan one-liners in equal measure, but too often falls flat.
Meanwhile, as the ringmaster of this circus, Taylor is left to juggle these overlapping subplots without giving any of them sufficient space for either comedic or dramatic development.
Gently poking fun at blue-collar idiosyncrasies without the necessary satirical edge, Breaking News in Yuba County isn’t worth disrupting your regularly scheduled programming.
Rated R, 96 minutes.