We know D.C. Get our free newsletter to stay in the know.

That Jiminy Glick in La La Wood isn’t opening against Revenge of the Sith is no surprise. Why a feature on Martin Short’s fat, clueless alter ego is coming out at all, however, is a real head-scratcher. Are there still any fans of Jiminy Glick, the character who debuted on the quickly extinguished Martin Short Show and was the star of a Comedy Central series canceled in 2003? The release may seem especially baffling to those who’ve caught only snippets of the Glick schtick: He’s sloppy, he’s stupid, and so what? But any serious moviegoer who’s ever caught himself saying, “What the hell am I watching?” will probably find a surprising number of things to laugh at in La La Wood, whose story takes the Butte, Mont., entertainment reporter, his trailer-trash wife, Dixie (Jan Hooks), and their twins, Matthew and Modine, to the Toronto International Film Festival. That line is whispered during a screening of Growing Up Gandhi, a ridiculous, dadaesque bore that one Eurotrash cinéaste (John Michael Higgins) describes as being akin to “a goose farting in your face.” The ever-fawning Glick sleeps through it but still gives the movie its solitary rave review, which scores him an exclusive with Gandhi’s dim, pretty star, Ben DiCarlo (Corey Pearson). But this film, unlike Glick’s TV appearances, isn’t entirely a gabfest. Screenwriters Short, Paul Flaherty, and Michael Short actually present La La Wood as a thriller, narrated by David Lynch (also played by Short, who basically just repeats the line “I like the idea of a dark road”) and inspired by the story of Lana Turner’s murdered lover. Not that the story matters much. La La Wood’s biggest success are small, isolated moments: Glick’s shouting “Kiefer!” a billion times to get Sutherland’s attention on the red carpet. Or calling Forest Whitaker “the wonderful Forrest Gump.” Or kicking off his DiCarlo interview with a singsong, impeccably enunciated “Let’s talk about all those Hollywood ladies you balled!” Some real stars, including Steve Martin and Kurt Russell, sit in for Glick interviews, as well. And though watching Glick emphatically slap them with his notes or talk about Martin’s full-frontal nudity is pretty funny in itself, seeing the celebs trying to not crack up at Short’s thoroughgoing absurdity is, well, nothing at all like a goose farting in your face.

—Tricia Olszewski