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With the fifteen-minute short film of the same name written by directors Jocelyn DeBoer and Dawn Luebbe already feeling like it overstays its welcome, the feature-length adaptation really tests the patience of its audience. Its unhumorous nature is actually an acute commentary on the average American family. An absurdist satire of suburban upper-middle-class culture, Greener Grass ups the hideous aesthetic that plagues tract housing through a distinct oversaturation of colors in tandem with the dumbing down of banter between two friendly, but competitive, soccer moms. It attempts to poke fun at outlandish one-upmanship, but ultimately comes off just as self-serving and insipid as Jill (Deboer) and Lisa (Luebbe), whose names are so forgettable, I had to look up the cast to remember (although this could play into the idea of homogeneity to such a degree that everyone feels the same). Make no mistake though, for this “absurdist comedy satire” is neither some masterclass takedown of the culture of PTA meetings and “Gifted Program” math classes, nor possessive of any relative humor. Greener Grass tries to imbue the essence of a tornado ripping through Richmond Heights, but falls just as short as its contemporary absurd short films like Unedited Footage of a Bear and This House Has People in It.

The film opens at a soccer game, where children crowd around the ball in an unfiltered and lawless way. One child stands removed from the sport staring off into nothing until he is brushed past by another child, prompting him to fall to the ground; screaming in agony in a successful attempt for attention from his mother Jill, who’s talking to her “friend,” Lisa, about the recent murder of a yoga instructor. Laying out the primary structure for the rest of the film, this sequence in the film is about as good as it gets as it injects an absurd humor into what feels like the rudimentary chitchat you’d overhear at the waiting room of a children’s dentistry as one mother offers up her baby to the other in an attempt to appear selflessly and morally superior to her friend. This competition of who can appear better is what primarily drives the plot for the remaining 90 or so minutes (although it feels twice as long). Jill and Lisa work their way through child-swapping, narcissistic parenting, and contemplating divorce like it is a juice cleanse. But what the film focuses on primarily is their parenting, as their children seem to be extensions of their own egos. Jill is more embarrassed about her son wetting his pants than his mental stability, which is pretty questionable when it seems to take on a quasi-oedipal approach to this “mama’s boy” notion (although this is undercut by a gag equal parts outrageous and unfunny later in the film). Hints of thoughtful commentary are all too often undermined by an adherence to what one might call the “Adult Swim” approach to comedy, where everything is heightened to such an extent that the viewer grows bored of “look at how crazy this is” gags within the first five minutes.

Despite the poor execution, the most commendable aspect about Greener Grass is surprisingly, the dialogue. While the universal satirical criticism isn’t achieved, writer/directors Luebbe and DeBoer are able to contextualize absurd ideas into the mothers’ discourse while making it feel completely normal for two suburban mothers’ day-to-day babble. A particularly clever piece of dialogue comes up in the opening discussion of the murder of a yoga instructor. Both Jill and Lisa switch from disgust to vapid egoism in tandem as they make regards akin to “I’d always love to try out yoga” as they completely forget about the bleak nature of death and get caught up in their own desires. The ability to make the most farcical conversations feel mundane is handled incredibly well, and this is undoubtedly due to the fact that the actresses are also the writers of the film. But, as we all know, dialogue isn’t everything in a film. While the dialogue works, the rest of the writing falls flat on its face as the progression of events feels more like the writers think that an infinite crescendo of “craziness” works as opposed to developing a worthwhile, well-thought-out caricature of suburbanite vapidity. Thus, an interesting dichotomy comes into play with the fractured writing that triumphs and fails at the same time.

The odd thing about Greener Grass’s tone-deaf nature is that its execution is fairly standard. The film is well shot in regards to space and focus, and the production design aids the thesis of the film quite well. However, the visual presentation is held back by the colors that are blown out and utterly hideous. Despite that being an addition to the absurd nature of everything going on, it still isn’t a worthy contribution to its satirical nature. Terry Zwigoff takes aim at the same suburban mundanity in Ghost World through kitsch aesthetics and manages to triumph through production design akin to that of Greener Grass, but cinematographer Lowell A. Meyer manages to drown out the otherwise decent costume and production design in what feels like a cheap attempt at recreating Katy Perry music videos from the early 2010s. When there’s such a disconnect between the strengths of the production design and how it is presented on screen, it detracts substantially from one’s enjoyment of the film.

While I found the film to be quite repulsive, determining the quality something like this feels incredibly subjective. I don’t care for this or Sorry to Bother You, yet find Idiocracy and But I’m a Cheerleader to be quite comedic successes. Placing satire into a film makes any universal consensus incredibly contentious as the degree of its prevalence and its overall amplitude in the film plays a critical role in one’s enjoyment. With something like Greener Grass, unfortunately, the satire is too absurd and uninspired for me to enjoy it personally. Films may look awful but provide some interesting insight, but this film lacks both the appealing panache and thoughtful commentary for it to feel like it’s worthwhile in any sense. Ultimately, the film is a novel concept, but feels too underdeveloped to work well.

1.5/5 STARS