Directed by Jay Chandrasekhar
Written by Broken Lizard
Release Date: 15 February 2001
Running Time: 100 minutes
MPAA Rating: R
Editor’s Rating: 4 out of 4 Inappropriate Bear-Based Halloween Costumes


There was a time when men weren't men unless they wore a handsome mustache. When police officers were pillars of the community, upholding truth and justice. A time when police cruisers drove down the avenues of small town Americana, and little children would wave and playfully give chase.

This is not that time. The setting of this film is so far gone from the Beaver Cleaver scenario I just described, it only crosses the deepest dreams of the most depraved sociopaths thought up by June’s worst nightmares. But they did keep the mustaches.

That’s why it’s the best cop comedy ever made.

The story revolves around five dysfunctional Vermont State Troopers and their antics as they deal with the boredom of being, well, Vermont State Troopers. They drive along the interstates and play pranks on the people they pull over. They play pranks on themselves. They play pranks on their rivals, the Spursbury police department, who keep infringing on their highways and generally make their lives difficult. Spursbury’s police chief has it out for our “heroes,” and is doing everything he can to get their station shut down. So when both departments stumble across evidence of a smuggling ring, like a cow in an elevator, the stakes get raised.

That’s the paper thin excuse for a plot that Broken Lizard gives us to go on. But ten minutes in, you won’t care one bit. You’re just waiting for the next gag to drop. And this film delivers them again and again. Their comedy is a kind of interesting take on what is now referred to as “bro” humor: scat jokes, odd non-sequiturs, and juvenile hazing and insults that far too often involve someone’s genitals. It’s raunchy, it’s stupid, it’s gross, and it’s totally out of place, but that’s what makes this movie so special. Who thinks about doing some odd sort of frat comedy with white bread (with the exception of Thorny, of course-I guess he’s a sort of light pumpernickel?), quiet little town cops that have more in common with Barney Fife than Riggs and Murtaugh? Back when this film was made, cops were glamorized with films like Bad Boys and the entire Lethal Weapon series, and as a result, the average Joe couldn’t care less about anything less flashy. But do you want to know who did care? Broken Lizard, that’s who.

The film’s characters, while not the most three-dimensional dudes out there, are nonetheless interesting (or embarrassing) enough to remember them after you’ve watched the movie, notably Farva (played by Kevin Heffernan) and Mack (played by Steve Lemme). Together, they kind of parody the audience of people who went to see cop films back in the day - the overweight thrill-seeker with no actual know-how to navigate themselves out of a dangerous situation - and the type of crazy, reckless cops seen in movies that are in no way realistic, but regardless the former watched them blow stuff up with a childlike glee. Oh yeah, Lynda Carter shows up for some reason, too. It’s cool. Jim Gaffigan’s in there for a second as well, so that’s fun.

Super Troopers is listed on Netflix as a comedy first, and a cult movie second, and the reason that’s so is because it’s such an effective comedy. There would be no cult of The Rocky Horror Picture Show if it didn’t have something to offer its audience, namely transvestites and poop-on-a-pancake catchy songs, and if Super Troopers wasn’t so dingle-derrying funny, no one would care.

Well, hello America. I’m Rick, a third order RamRodian scholar of the cult of Super Troopers. And I’m here to tell you to come join us meow. Come join the Super side. We have all the maple syrup you can chug, and liters a’ cola to wash ‘em down.

Thank you for your time.

**I own this movie. I love it. You should love it too, just not with kids in the room. I was not compensated for this review.**