Thomas Müller is a pretty average German guy. He’s got thinning hair, a beige Volkswagen, a taste for schnitzel, and a crummy job that he loses within the first few minutes of King Ordinary. Luckily for him, there’s at least one field where mediocrity is an asset: market research. Müller falls in with a mysterious stranger who hires him under the auspices of an “industrial services” company, but—through an elaborate system of surveillance—turns him into an unwitting guinea pig for politicians and corporations dying for the opinion of the everyman. Like The Truman Show meets Family Feud, King Ordinary is at its best in the lighthearted scenes that let the actors have fun in their roles (Müller’s very easy to root for). Less amusing are the wild swerves of a storyline that becomes so unbelievable, it’s just shy of science fiction, drawing a jarring contrast with characters you could swear you’ve met in real life. But if you can suspend all eye-rolling when the plot devices become too convenient, King Ordinary is the rare comedy that can mine new laughs from the archetype of a naïve, balding, schnitzel-lover next door.