(Forecast calls for mild spoilers.)

Watching Jody Hill’s Observe and Report, you may find yourself experiencing a sensation of disappointment. If you do, that’s a good thing.

Because Observe and Report is about disappointment. On a personal scale, yes, but also on a societal scale.

Any number of reviews of Observe and Report compared it to Taxi Driver (in fact, director Hill cited the film as an inspiration) but comparisons to Scorsese’s less popular King of Comedy are more apt. Taxi Driver’s Travis Bickle is isolated he doesn’t understand the rules of social interaction. His attempts to connect fail because he gets the signals wrong. He’s never been properly socialized, and the only narrative he has to structure his life is the one he scrawls himself, in his journal. Observe and Report’s Ronnie Barnhardt (Seth Rogen) is more akin to King of Comedy’s  Rupert Pupkin. Rupert and Ronnie knows the signs. They know what to want, how to act and what to expect from life. They’ve seen it on TV and in movies, heard it in songs and from the White House. Where Travis Bickle sees himself as God’s Lonely Man, Rupert and Ronnie see themselves as celebrities and heroes. Travis is a man who can’t sleep. Rupert and Ronnie are dreamers of the American Dream.

Throughout Observe and Report, characters make reference to the roles they’re supposed to play. Ronnie’s actions follow from his belief that  “every man has a path laid out before him” and that “Right now, the world needs a fucking hero.” (A sentiment sanitized for the film’s tagline.) In a late conversion, Ronnie’s disastrously alcoholic mother vows to “switch to beer” (lowered expectations being the established pattern of the film by that point) to become the type of mother she’s supposed to be.

The sentiments are eerily reminiscent of Rupert Pupkin’s “Why not me? Why not? A guy can get anything he wants as long as he pays the price. What’s wrong with that?” Certainly the goals are the same: the dream job, the dream girl, happiness, wealth, acceptance and acclaim. And just as certainly, the results are disappointing (admittedly, this depends on how you interpret the ending of King of Comedy).

The major turning point of the second act of Observe and Report comes when Ronnie barricades himself inside the mall he protects, refusing to leave. The police arrive and try to take Ronnie away by force. Ronnie fights back, and briefly seems to be winning the nightsticks vs. utility flashlight battle. (In fact, the point at which the tide turns against Ronnie happens offscreen, and when we catch up with him again, he’s beaten and bloodied, which forces the question: was he actually winning at any point, or were we seeing his version of events? It’s the ending of King of Comedy redux.)

Ronnie’s temporary hold-his-own inspired one of his coworkers to join the fight against the police, a decision that gets him thoroughly beaten. As the camera pulls away from him, we see the police clustered around, kicking and swinging their nightsticks in vicious arcs. The image being evoked is unmistakable: the security guard is Rodney King. The mall is South Central. And no, we cannot all just get along.

The image is the perfect fulcrum for the film’s story, tipping into the violent resolutions of the third act. The L.A. riots – and the indelible image of Rodney King’s beating in particular – form an object lesson in disappointment. When we see those images, the first reaction may be outrage or disbelief or confusion, but behind and after those emotions is disappointment. Disappointment that we’ve chosen  to solve problems with violence and oppression again. That we’ve taken the easy way out. That imagination has failed. That humanity has let us down again. (Same goes for Tiananmen Square, or Abu Ghraib, or insert-your-moment-here.)

It’s an image that haunts the remainder of the film, and revises your understanding of what led up to it, including Seth Rogen’s performance. Looking back, he feels less like Seth Rogen acting, and more like someone who’s seen him in a movie, seen that he’s popular, and is now doing a Seth Rogen impression to impress his friends. Again, it’s a case of doing what you’re supposed to (“this is how you be funny”), and delivering disappointing results. Within the reality of the movie, that is; sitting in the audience, it’s a different experience. Rogen’s performance is funny, but tinged with discomfort, because what shows around the edges is serious, self-deceiving and dangerously oblivious.

It’s as if Observe and Report is sharing its characters’ experience with the audience. Our expectations have been frustrated. We’ve been sold a melt-in-your-mouth Set Rogen comedy, and gotten stick-in-your-throat cringe comedy instead.

Oddly enough, though, it’s anything but disappointing.

Command+s.

Ian Driscoll knows the title of this article is a paraphrase, but he went with it anyway. Disappointing, isn’t it?