Two Little Boys

Overview

In a season two episode of the iconic Flight of the Conchords, Jemaine asks his comedic comrade Bret, "What expression is on your face?" To which a deadpan Bret answers, "Um. Guilty expression. What expression is on your face?" Now Two Little Boys sees Bret McKenzie as Nige: mullet-haired, potty-mouthed and totally guilt-ridden upon accidentally killing a backpacker while cruising the bleak streets of Invercargill.

Those used to the pokerfaced prankster on FotC take note: this is a blacker, bitterer Bret — plagued with demons and incessantly panicky — but, like toasted sandwiches and beer, it works. Two Little Boys is a deliciously dark screwball comedy about "what it means to really be dead" and, in turn, what it means to be alive.

Nige has had a falling out with his best friend since childhood, Deano (Hamish Blake), with whom he'd shared beers, boner jokes, and a bedroom since adolescence. Nige, on sensing there might be more to life than mischief and piss-ups, moved in with his new mate Gav (Maaka Pohatu), who is fond of poetry, pot, and piety. It all goes pakaru when Nige hits the Norwegian tourist in the wee hours one night and finds himself with a hot meat pie in his lap and a corpse on his hands. He turns to the jilted Deano, whose manic-eyed monstrousness quickly becomes apparent when he steps in to help his beloved buddy get out of trouble.

The bromance-gone-bad elements are all, devilishly, in place: the well-adjusted new mate, the angry ex-girlfriend, the strewn-about reminders of their goodtime past. Blake is brilliant as the obscene Deano, bringing a crazy-eyed sanguinariness to Deano's unwavering loyalty. Set against the magnificence of New Zealand's South Island, the duo's road-trip to discreetly dump the deceased in the Catlins is as disturbing as it is cartoonishly comical.

Blake and McKenzie are a dangerously funny pair; their Anzac-like brethren is a fine motif of our two southerly countries' camaraderie. Expect lots of trackpants, swear words, and toasted sandwiches. Folks from the South Island might recognise a face or two, with 100 extras chosen from around the area.

Enjoy the immature giggle you get out of telling the cinema teller you would like to see 'two little boys' — this is a flick about the joy of juvenility and the occasional freakishness of undying fidelity.