Particularly appealing in this classic confrontation are the default heroes. Ed (Kel Mitchell) is the ultimate naif, literal to a fault and possessing an innocence that’s disarming. Dexter (Kenan Thompson) is his wheeler-dealer foil, forced into fast-food servitude to pay off the cost of an automobile accident with his schoolteacher, 1970s retro-dude Mr. Wheat (Sinbad).
The evil Mondo chain, repped by Kurt Bozwell (Jan Schweiterman), is dismissive of the competition. Selling patties twice the size of Good Burger’s for the same price, they presume to own the competitive skillet in a matter of weeks. The way they plump up the beef is not only an extreme example of venal corporate power but, appropriately, the (sesame) seed of their undoing.
Meanwhile, a divine accident re-balances the scales. On lunch break, Dexter gets a taste of Ed’s outstanding homemade special sauce. The staff concurs on its quality after sampling it, and the sauce is immediately added to the menu. Overnight, record crowds are drawn to the eatery, much to the chagrin of the blockbuster bunmeisters.
Pic, evolved from a recurring sketch on Nickelodeon’s “All That,” has a trump card in the character of Ed, ingeniously played by Mitchell. Ed is in the American dramatic tradition of the “Jonathan” tales – yarns in which a country rube ventures to the big city and overcomes those who wish to exploit him. Honesty and integrity prevail against greed and corruption for him, as well as for such bygone prototypes as L’il Abner and Mr. Smith.
The irony of this type is that he’s vulnerable to both friend and foe. Ed is at the receiving end of such villainous ploys as money, sexual seduction and physical threats, but considerably more poignant is the fact that Dexter is also quick to prey on his friend’s simple ways. He draws up a contract in which he receives the lion’s share of profits from the sauce. While it sounds cornier than a corn dog, Dexter’s realization that his value system is askew gives the film a richer flavor and a more textured moral basis.
Mitchell and Thompson have the sort of complementary qualities that make for great comedy teamwork. And the writers and actors are hip enough to understand how to turn the tables on the obvious without compromising the lead characters’ natures.
Director Brian Robbins has an efficient, unfussy manner that emphasizes character and environment. Rather than slick camerawork, he focuses on Steven Jordan’s offbeat and slightly garish production design, to great effect.
“Good Burger” stacks up well in its minor genre. The meat of the piece is definitely FDA cinematically approved, and perfect if you like this brand of entertainment with the works.