Last Call

The audience seems to be divided into two camps: Friends and family of the director and/or cast, who shamelessly give this "movie" a 10, and everyone else, most of whom begrudgingly give it a 1, because ZERO is not an option. Jeremy Piven should have taken Ari Gold's advice to Vincent and read the script before taking this gig. But maybe he couldn't, because THERE WAS NO SCRIPT. Just bad improvisation. His character sums it up perfectly near the end of this arduous slog: "The fish stinks from the head down." Everything about Last Call stunk. Originally titled, Crabs In A bucket, I think someone realized that the plot, such as it is, didn't really reflect a grasp of the metaphor. But changing the title was merely putting a band-aid on a bullet wound. What they really needed to do here was write a script. Cobbling together a collection of drunken montages punctuated by cringe-inducing ad-libbing and bad Irish accents is not comedy, it's painful. The actors, from Jeremy Piven on down seem completely lost in the absence of both written dialogue and direction. This would have been cheaper and much funnier to just point a camera inside a real life bar. And far less insulting to a viewing audience.