Producers: David Stassen, Ike Barinholtz and Patrick Rizzotti   Director: David Stassen   Screenplay: Ike Barinholtz and David Stassen   Cast: Ike Barinholtz, Dylan O’Brien, Marco Diaz, Beth Grant, Mark Proksch, Jena Friedman, Blake Anderson, Max Minghella, Brandon Wardell, Andrew Friedman and Seth Rogen   Distributor: Momentum Pictures

Grade: C

The shiftiness of political consultants is hardly a new subject for movies—just think of Frank Capra classics or Robert Redford’s “The Candidate” (a full half-century old now)—so a mockumentary about one needs to stand out somehow.  Ike Barinholtz’s tack is simply to turn his into the story of a hapless goofball who talks big but doesn’t have a clue, and then to pair him up with a partner even dumber than he is.  The result might have been titled “Two Stooges on the Campaign Trail,” but instead, with a nod to Stephen Colbert’s old concept of truthiness, is called “Maximum Truth.”

Barinholtz, full of smarmy energy, plays Rick Klingman, a blowhard lawyer of sorts who embraces right-wing causes; he’s first shown leading a feeble protest against a play depicting Lincoln as gay, leading to a cameo put-down by Seth Rogen.  Then he’s recruited by wealthy Mary Jo Nackerson (Beth Grant) to dig up dirt on a L.A. city council candidate she doesn’t like, Antonio Kelly-Zhang (Max Minghella), whose hit-all-the-bases name is the funniest thing about him.  Rick enlists his even dopier pal Simon Tarnum (Dylan O’Brien), a fitness freak trying to promote an energy drink whose name he can’t even spell correctly, to work with him on the mission.

Their efforts amount to one disaster after another.  First up is Fred Zurtz (Mark Proksch), a guy whose claims that Antonio once sexually harassed him collapse when his memory goes blurry and own behavior turns out to be more than a tad questionable.  Then there’s Arliss (Blake Anderson), whose promised sex orgy tape proves to be a photo-shop job so terrible than even dimwitted Rick won’t bite.  Last but far from least is Carol (Jane Friedman), whose recollection of a collegiate anti-Semitic remark is bolstered by her willingness to go on the record about it.  That sets up the will-she-or-won’t-she final act, when Rick and Simon anxiously fret over whether she’ll appear for the press conference they’ve impulsively arranged.  And all the while they have to contend with the fact that an offer of information might be a joke concocted by an online prankster going by the moniker Sludge Whopper (Brandon Wardell).

Barinholtz and co-writer David Stassen, who also directs, sprinkle in other semi-sketches to extend their conceit to short-feature length.  The most important are scenes of Rick’s home life, where his obvious partner Marco (Tony Rodriguez) grows increasingly furious over Rick’s attempts to downplay the nature of their relationship in front of the off-screen documentarian’s camera—and the cavalier treatment of their domestic life, especially when it comes to celebrating his birthday.  There’s also a meet-and-greet with potential donors at Mary Jo’s house, a collection of cranks and wingnuts at which Rick eagerly accepts an invitation to hold one guest’s automatic rifle and then—you guessed it—accidentally unleashes a fusillade of bullets into the ceiling.

There are scattered laughs here and there, and Barinholtz certainly never stops trying to sell the material; he’s also enlisted a bevy of his friends for supporting roles, sometimes (one presumes) improvising on the spot. O’Brien, moreover, earns some real chuckles playing a well-muscled dope who even endures a final indignity with equanimity.  And the mockumentary feel is nicely maintained in Mara Certic’s production design, Keith Dunkerley’s cinematography, the editing by Dorian Harris and Xueyi Shay Yang and Jeff Cardoni’s bouncy score.

But this is a one-joke affair content to coast on the farcical surface, never considering the real malignancy of the political consulting business it’s satirizing.  As such even at a modest running-time (a mere seventy-eight minutes) it overstays its welcome.  It might have worked better as a series of sketches on a cable comedy show.         

Producer: Kelly Cooney Cilella   Directors: Kirk DeMicco and Faryn Pearl   Screenplay: Pam Brady, Brian C. Brown and Elliott DiGuiseppi   Cast: Lana Condor, Toni Collette, Annie Murphy, Sam Richardson, Liza Koshy, Will Forte, Colman Domingo, Jaboukie Young-White, Blue Chapman, Eduardo Franco, Ramona Young, Echo Kellum, Nicole Byer and Jane Fonda   Distributor: Universal

Grade: C

There’s not much fun to be had in this peculiarly charmless, bombastic offering from DreamWorks Animation, which pits the legendary sea monsters, the kraken, against mermaids, though not in the fashion you might expect.  And their battle is set against the backdrop of an event you might consider unlikely (though, given teen-centered screenplay, it’s not)—a high-school prom. 

The school is in the town of Oceanside, where sophomore Ruby Gillman (voiced by Lana Condor) is forbidden to attend the celebration by her real-estate mother Agatha (Toni Collette) because it’s going to be held on a big party boat, and Ruby is not supposed to go near the water.  Why?  Because she’s a kraken in disguise—as are her mom, her father Arthur (Colman Domingo) and kid brother Sam (Blue Chapman).  They explain their unusual bluish hue by claiming to come from Canada, an excuse the dopey humans they commingle with accept without demur, save for volatile Gordon Lighthouse (Will Forte), a crusty old sailor who claims once to have encountered a kraken, takes tourists out on his boat to search for them—and is suspicious of all outsiders.

Ruby, a math whiz, has a trio of best buddies—drama queen Margot (Liza Koshy), goofy gamer Trevin (Eduardo Franco) and goth doomster Bliss (Ramona Young).  But they all bail on her plan to skip prom in unison, which only increases the shy girl’s depression over not being able to go with her crush, Connor (Jaboukie Young-White), the fluffy-haired skateboarder she tutors in algebra.

When Connor falls into the sea, Ruby jumps in and saves him.  Credit for the rescue, however, is claimed by the new girl in school, Chelsea (Annie Murphy), who turns out to be a mean-girl mermaid who cozies up to Ruby for nefarious reasons.  But our heroine has, by going into the water, turned into her giant-kraken form, and furious with Agatha for keeping the truth from her, she goes deep in the ocean to visit her prima donna Grandmamah (Jane Fonda), queen of the underwater realm, who tells her she’s a princess destined to succeed her.  She also informs Ruby that before choosing to reject her inheritance, leave for land and raise her family in peace, Agatha saved the sea from the evil mermaid queen by securing the all-powerful Trident of Oceanus where no one could reach it.

Ruby now senses her power—the movie is, like Pixar’s “Turning Red,” a parable about the onset of puberty—and Chelsea urges her to join her and find the Trident together.  Naturally it’s a malicious ploy, and only Grandmamah, Agatha and Ruby working together can foil Chelsea when she turns into a gigantic, apparently invincible opponent—a transformation Grandmamah predicts with what might be called the reverse of Darth Vader’s famous revelation to Luke Skywalker.

And while all this is going on, Agatha’s wacky brother Brill (Sam Richardson) turns up to serve as part supportive uncle, part purveyor of necessary exposition, and part semi-hero himself.

The usual kid-movie morals abound here—you can’t tell a book by its cover, family should stick together through rough passages, keep your head while navigating the path to maturity—but the curious thing is that, despite the fact that the title character is supposed to be an unconventional kind of fairy princess, the picture is unlikely to appeal much to its target audience of very young girls.  It’s not that Ruby is obnoxious, actually, but she is rather wan (in terms of personality, not appearance) and whiny. 

And the characters around her don’t offer much compensation. Richardson’s Brill, for example, is portrayed in such exaggeratedly goofy terms that you’re likely to be exhausted by him within a matter of seconds, and Forte’s sea captain isn’t far behind in that department.  Collette’s comic talents are wasted on straight-laced Agatha, and perhaps Fonda is simply doing too much of this aging-diva stuff to be able to keep it fresh—after all, it’s not long since her voice turn in “Luck.”

Nor is the computer animation sufficiently eye-popping to set “Ruby” apart from today’s general run of family-oriented cartoons.  It has a colorful sheen, but is hardly distinctive apart from the character designs headed by Carlos Fernandez Puertolas’ team, and the final stand-off is disappointingly rote.  John Gutman’s cinematography, Michelle Mendenhall’s editing and Stephane Economou’s score are all okay but unexceptional.

DreamWorks might have imagined that this could turn into a “Shrek”-type franchise, but that seems far-fetched.  More likely is that it will spawn one of those cable-based series that is dutifully made and just as dutifully watched by kids with too much time on their hands.  This “Ruby” gleams visually but overall lacks sparkle.