Did James Nguyen’s Birdemic leave you in stitches? Did Tommy Wiseau’s The Room drive you into hysterics? Then folks, Neil Breen’s Fateful Findings is for you! I can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard at… well… anything.
A true Renaissance man, Breen, who looks like a freeze-dried Bob Dylan, wrote, produced, directed, and stars in this sucker. He plays an author who is now “hacking into government secrets” to expose corruption. One day, he is hit by a car and instantly gets better. His doctor also happens to be his long-lost childhood friend who, as a child, was there when he discovered a mystical cube hidden inside of a mushroom. When she is kidnapped, Neil uses his mystical powers to get her back.
Like The Room, our main character is always right about everything and there is little to no drama as the plot conveniently bends to his whims. When he finds his childhood friend, he wants to be with her, but he’s already married to a hot foreign babe. No problem, because almost immediately, she commits suicide and now he is free to court his long-lost love.
Speaking of suicide, the ending has to be seen to be believed. Remember the end of On Deadly Ground where Steven Seagal gave that big political speech? He’s got nothing on Neil Breen. When Breen holds a press conference and exposes all the crooked fat cats, they take the stage, immediately apologize for all wrongdoing, and promptly off themselves, some right on stage and no one does anything. Heck, Breen keeps right on talking! Incredible.
Speaking of suicide (yes, I know this is the second paragraph in a row that I have started with that phrase, but it is a running theme throughout the film), nothing, and I mean nothing can prepare you for Breen’s reaction when he finds out his friend has committed suicide. Be prepared to rewind and rewatch this part over and over again. It's pure comedy gold.
This is a vanity protect through and through, but it’s so spectacularly inept it’s guaranteed to make your jaw drop every ten minutes. Dialogue scenes start with lots of yelling, then somehow everyone is all happy, only to start yelling at each other again in the next scene. People are shown talking on the phone to persons unknown about God knows what. Breen also gives us a lot of gratuitous nude scenes of himself. Thankfully, he spares us the sight of his Breenis. (Or maybe his Oscar Mayer Breener?)
The motif of Breen trashing laptops is downright perplexing. He has no less than four of them in his office, and none of them are ever turned on. Whenever he gets mad, he tosses them to the ground in anger. Try to keep a running tab of how many times it happens. (He also types like someone with acute nerve damage to his hands.) Also, this flick has the most random closeups of feet outside of a Doris Wishman movie.
When you watch Fateful Findings, it becomes apparent Neil Breen, the writer couldn’t write a coherent scene if his life depended on it. It’s obvious Neil Breen the actor, couldn’t act his way out of a paper bag. And it’s painfully clear that Neil Breen, the director had no idea what the fuck he was doing behind the camera. And you know what? I wouldn’t have it any other way. This is one of the funniest bad movies I’ve seen in a long, long time.
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