[5.2/10] A good premise can get you pretty far. Joss Whedon famously pitched *Buffy the Vampire Slayer* as a reversal of the typical horror movie trope -- the teenage girl hunting the monsters that go bump in the night rather than the other way around. And the novelty of that idea helped sustain *Buffy* through a heavily-rewritten film and shaky first season. But the series, at least, had the benefit of a talented writers’ room that kept the show humming even after the novelty wore off.

*Tucker and Dale vs. Evil* has a similarly subversive premise, presenting a story where this time, it’s the (unintentionally) scary rednecks holed up in the woods who are our protagonists, and the crop of sexy teens who are the bad guys. It’s a neat elevator pitch for a film, at times, the movie makes good on the promise of that setup, but more often than not, it stumbles into lame setpieces, outdated and undeveloped romantic beats, and weak humor, draining that novel concept of any boost it might otherwise give.

The film tries, I have to give it that. It still delivers the “good-looking college kids die horribly at the hands of hillbillies” trope, but does it through a series of wacky accidents, mishaps, and misunderstandings rather than any malfeasance from it’s two titular sons of the soil. The film seems to be going for Looney Tunes with most of these sequences, but most of them can’t find the right balance between ridiculousness and realism to make that work in live action. Again, it’s a good idea -- flipping the usual horror movie narrative on its head but still getting the same result -- but how the film gets there doesn’t cut the mustard.

That said, to the extent the film works on a moment-to-moment basis, it’s on the strength of its two main performers. Tyler Labine plays Dale, the protagonist of the film, with an Andy Dwyer-like combination of naivete and puppy dog sweetness. His presence through the nonsense events of the film gives them a center, and he makes awkward, contrived, or downright weird moments and interactions in the film endearing just with his presence. By the same token, Alan Tudyk has less to do as Tucker, Dale’s surrogate big brother, mostly reduced to those wacky sequences and some fractured “you can do it” encouragements, but Tudyk is a pro and finds the comic juice in bits that should be devoid of them.

Were that the same could be said for the rest of the cast. Most of the rest of the college kids are just fodder for the film’s implausible death scenes, and the actors give performances that are as superfluous as their characters. To give this the most charitable interpretation, the film could be riffing on the fact that invariably, some of the earliest characters to perish in the average slasher flick are undeveloped, because why bother giving someone personality if they’re just going to kick the bucket? But if that’s the intention, the film blurs the line from making fun of a trope and embracing it too much for the comedy to work or for the kids to feel like they have a purpose beyond dying in contrived, grisly fashions.

The main antagonist of the film is Chad, the group’s ringleader who (and we know this because he straight up announces it) thinks he’s better than everyone else. Chad is as one-dimensional a foil as you’re likely to find, and while there’s some laudable subversion in him becoming the crazy freak cliché that pops up so often in these films, the movie’s attempts to trade on the irony of his beef with hillbillies and his heritage is feeble at best and offensive at worst.

But maybe that’s a fate better than Allison’s, the main female college student in the piece, who basically exists to fall in love with Dale and become his prize for learning how to assert himself. Allison is a stock love interest, whose only personality traits are finding Dale unassumingly charming and a barely-sketched interest in psychology (which, to be fair, comes back around for a pretty decent gag). She is the peak of the “girl as trophy” trope in a “manchild grows up”-type story, and dull besides.

Actress Katrina Bowden does her best, but her purpose in this film is simply to be attractive and occasionally make goo goo eyes at Dale. She handles that task with aplomb, and even brings some charm to the role, but it’s so underwritten, so one-note, and so retrograde that it’s hard to take too much from it.

At least some of this could be forgivable if the film were actually funny. There’s a few laughs to be had here and there, mostly off the strength of Labine and Tudyk as performers, but for the most part, all that *Tucker and Dale vs. Evil* has to offer is not especially clever physical comedy and broad gags that wouldn’t feel out of place in a direct-to-video *American Pie* sequel. If fairness, that’s definitely the vibe this film is going for, and if it’s what you want out of this type of comedy, more power to you, but it comes off as a waste of a good idea and a pair of talented performers.

*Tucker and Dale vs. Evil* isn’t a lost cause, but it does feel like a missed opportunity. Had a team like Whedon and Drew Goddard (both of *Buffy* and *Cabin in the Woods* fame, tackled this idea, there might be genuine subversion and commentary on horror tropes and prejudices baked in the film, not to mention some snappy dialogue and good laughs. Instead, Craig uses the premise as fodder for an underwhelming romp, which can coast a little on the strength of its leads, but never escapes the downward pull of its lame jokes and contrived setups. A good premise is great, but if you can’t execute it well, you may as well just toss the results in the woodchipper.