Bobcat Goldthwait’s (World’s Greatest Dad) pitch-black social satire is something akin to Idiocracy meets Falling Down. Frank is a terminally-ill man (Joel Murray), fired from his job, and he’s had enough with the coarsening of American culture. He teams up with Roxy (Tara Lynne Barr), a precocious teenager, and embarks on a killing spree intended to take out the people responsible for making us so mean. Nothing is subtle about Goldthwait’s satire, and while the victims are easy targets (reality TV, media fear-mongering, hateful religious extremists), the results are wickedly funny and entertaining on a vicarious level. Murray is given a few standout speeches about the poisoning of intelligence, the celebration of self-absorption and ignorance, and while it may be preaching to the choir, God Bless America has enough moments that make you want to stand up and salute. There is a sequence in a movie theater where Frank and Roxy kill a group of noisy, inconsiderate teenagers, and I think this part should be shown before every movie, in every theater, for the rest of time.

What stops the film from being an irresponsible 90 minutes of pure cranky wish-fulfillment is that Goldthwait does not condone his killer’s point of view. The movie finds ways to undercut the glamorization of what they do, whether it’s robbing Frank of a movie-style “cool kill,” having Roxy list off every annoyance she think is worthy of being killed over (including people who misuse the word “literally” and Diablo Cody) and having Frank reign her in, or the fact that Frank admits to finding some common ground with a blowhard pundit’s political views. This is definitely a movie for a select audience, but for people with a perverse sense of humor and a sense of rising frustration and dread over the popular culture, God Bless America is the movie equivalent of a cultural enema. It’s the darkest movie about manners you’ll likely see in a lifetime.

Nate’s Grade: A-