Big Gold Brick (2022)

Brian Pestos’s flair for go-for-broke zaniness transmutes what might otherwise have been a lump of self-indulgent clichés into gold.

Big Gold Brick may be a bit too enamored with its own quirkiness, but everything Garcia does, no matter how outlandish, feels perfectly natural.

It’s either a compliment or a criticism to say that you need to be on the exact same wavelength as Big Gold Brick to get a kick out of it, because if you turn the dial even the tiniest little bit in either direction, all you’re going to end up with is static. If you’re on board, though, then there’s plenty to enjoy about an offbeat adventure that’s unlike anything else you’re likely to see this year.

The title of this perfectly well-appointed production is apt: Big Gold Brick looks all right but it truly just sits there.

Everything and everyone lurches about in a desperate bid to be hilariously weird, and the effect is to make the proceedings feel hopelessly strained, as if they know that there’s nothing funny going on and thus must compensate via out-there quirkiness and constant mugging.