[7.1/10] If there’s a common element to the Christopher Guest crew’s movies, it’s people whose dreams are bigger than their talents. Put less charitably, it’s people who take themselves extraordinarily seriously, while being oblivious to how ridiculous and, dare I say, bad they really are. The humor of these partly-improvisational films comes from the distance between how the performers -- be they rock musicians, dog show enthusiasts, folk singers, or film performers -- see themselves, and how they really are.

What fits that distinction between perception and reality better than local community theater? *Waiting for Guffman* tells the story of a motley theater troupe, putting on a cornpone-but-loving celebration of a small Missouri town on the eve of its 150th anniversary, who treat the entire production as life and death. When the news that a Broadway producer is coming to see the show, the cast and director only get even more starry-eyed about the possibilities this earnest bit of locally-staged hokum might net them.

The funniest bits in the film come from that contrast between how important the players and the town supporting them treat this show, and how silly and inconsequential, if sweet, the show itself seems to be. The production, titled “Red, White, and Blaine” after the town it commemorates, features a musical director (Bob Balaban) who conducts his local orchestra with all the intensity and appearances as though he were at the London Philharmonic. A local self-important hack (Fred Willard) gives his wife and fellow performer (Catherine O’Hara) hours of notes at home and thinks himself expert enough to come up with his own lines. And the play’s director Corky St. Clair (Guest, pulling triple duty as co-writer, director, and star) breaks down and calls the town council a bunch of “bastard people” for laughing off his request for $100,000 in order to have the play meet his vision.

Corky, a New York City expat come to ply his talents in the lower stakes setting that would have him, is the lynchpin of the high drama the show’s cast and crew exhaust themselves over for something with lower stakes than anyone seems to understand. Unforunately, he’s also more or less one long, walking talking gay joke.

The film rarely feels mean about it -- Guest and company clearly have empathy for these characters even the movie treats them as deluded -- but occasionally traffics in stereotypes that feel uncomfortable two decades later. Gags about Corky’s never-seen wife, or him low-key preying on a local hunky mechanic, or just the general humor of an effeminate middle-aged man having to play a butch and strapping young go-getter come off as, at best, a little cheap now a days, and it’s the core of much of the humor around arguably the film’s main character.

Still, the other half of the humor is rooted in loving-if-mocking small town absurdity. You can see a lot of the comic DNA that *Parks and Recreation* would pull from in this film (which feels appropriate since Parker Posey, who plays former-and-future Dairy Queen employee Libby Mae Brown here, would go on to play Leslie Knope’s rival town equivalent on that show). There’s the well-observed loony bits of local town history put up with pride. There’s the sense of this small midwestern town, with its humdrum activities, viewing and more importantly *feeling* itself as the center of the universe. And there’s the same thread of homespun, everyman Americana running through these kind, if oblivious folks with big, if unrealistic dreams.

The thing that nevertheless puts *Waiting for Guffman* lower on the Christopher Guest film pecking order is that the majority of its humor tends toward smiles rather than guffaws. There’s lots of amusing enough physical humor, with silly man-dancing from Guest and co-writer/performer Eugene Levy (who plays a hacky joke-repeating dentist-turned-thespian), and the sincerity and severity with which everyone treats the production offers a continual strain of humor. But the movie essentially has one comic note which it plays throughout, with the humor barely waxing or waning around it. The Guest crew performers, while not yet at the height of their powers as an ensemble, are still talented pros who find funny little character moments, but the comedy never quite reaches a crescendo.

The closest the movie comes to that humorous highpoint is the performance of the show itself. The hokey narration between scenes is all too familiar to anyone who’s seen this production’s real life equivalent. The performance pays off all the early details about Blaine’s unique town history in amusing ways. And the movie nicely represents the performers feeling immense pressure and trying to give it their all in this proud but hackneyed presentation, in the hopes of impressing the slick out-of-towner who they view as their ticket to stardom.

But as the *Godot*-referencing title suggests, those hopes are not to be, as the Broadway producer was snowed in and missed the show. The actors are devastated, but ultimately not dissuaded from pursuing their bright lights dreams, although the epilogue suggests that all of them bump their heads on their respective low ceilings rather quickly, even if they’re still imagining their talents as an escalator to fortune and fame.

Still, there’s a deeper irony and, if you will, tragedy to all of this. While snobby big city elites like yours truly may find Blaine’s celebratory production more than a little lacking in execution, substance, and well, talent -- the local audience eats it up. The movie is full of reaction shots where the crowd bursts into laughter or looks on in awe at each gag and set piece. The dentist’s wife is amazed at her husband’s abilities as a dramatic actor. One council-member is moved to tears at a saccharine pre-war scene. The reaction to these performers beyond Blaine’s borders may be mixed at best, but within it, everyone is ecstatic.

There’s a lesson there, albeit a kind of cold one, about Corky and his troupe getting over their skis and overestimating their talents after being medium-sized fish in a very small pond. It’s a message that fits well with the rest of the films in the Guest filmography, which is often about people whose imagined reach far exceeds their meager grasp.

But there’s a sunnier point to be taken from *Waiting for Guffman* and this whole loose series of films -- go where you’re appreciated. Hollywood and Broadway would likely turn up their noses at “Red, White, and Blaine.” The whole comic thrust of the film is for saps like me to pat ourselves on the back and laugh at the absurdity of starry-eyed local players viewing their trite, rinky dink production as the most important thing in the world.

Any yet, despite using a bit of a mocking tone, *Waiting for Guffman* treats the Blaine-landers there to see the show as genuine in their joy and appreciation for this work. As silly as the production is, as hokey and ramshackle as its big set pieces may be, it still makes people laugh and cry and cheer with excitement and pride for their town. However outsiders might view the show, however great the distance between the perception and reality for its stars, there’s value any piece of art that can elicit that reaction, whether it’s destined for Broadway or just the local gym.