Inspiration from other prestigious filmmakers spilling over into the work of new filmmakers has been a common trend since the start of the previous century. Often, it’s endearing homage or best case, subtle nods that allow these creatives to take what they’ve learned from their elders and form something new. Collectively, all art we consume shapes us in some way and guides our brains, expanding our personality, and even helping defining who we are. With Evan Twohy, it’s hard not to believe Wes Anderson wasn’t on his mind at all times making Bubble & Squeak, to the point where you wonder, does he really have his own voice at all? From it’s 4:3 aspect ratio, sunny color palette, monotoned and fast-talking characters, and quirk laid as thick as humanly possible, Twohy has made a new unofficial Anderson entry. Many writer-directors have successfully translated their love for the twee auteur into very strong works of art in their own right (Richard Ayoade’s Submarine comes to mind) but Bubble & Squeak fails both to make sense as a story or to elicit any genuine laughs.

If you aren’t familiar yet with the premise, sit down and take this in. A couple, Declan and Dolores (Hamish Patel and Sarah Goldberg) traveling on a honeymoon excursion to an unnamed country where cabbages are illegal and are on the run after they are caught smuggling cabbages. This country is led by an oligarch played by Matt Berry, doing an admittedly phenomenal Werner Herzog impression. Steven Yuen plays his optically-scarred second in command. The reason for them smuggling the cabbages is never explained. Why they never abandon the cabbages and move on is never addressed. Not once does their mission feel worth investing in, causing the entire plot to feel like one big, long sketch stretched to an interminable 95 minutes.

Along the way, they run into a man disguised in a brown bear costume, dressed primarily out of the costume in a cabbage loincloth, played by Dave Franco. Franco’s presence is one of the only bright spots as he not only understands the tone perfectly, his comic timing aids the tone, bringing it closer to what is clearly intended, while Patel and Goldberg are left adrift with nonsensical character motivation and the inability to speak their deadpan dialogue with the right amount of flavor to pop. Berry’s voice is a natural gift in everything he’s in, even when it sounds nothing like him as it does here, and could potentially land a joke perfectly if his character were given any hilarious lines, but his accent work is all he’s left with, stuck with being a generic villain for the sake of having a threat for the main characters. There are some clever lines that pass through the script, but they land with a thud. It feels like these actors would rather be in a Wes Anderson movie and are settling for what they got instead, and Twohy just isn’t Anderson, not even close.

For most of its runtime, Bubble & Squeak is an unbearable slog without a point. Only in its finale does Twohy reveal the underlying poignancy he’s trying to get at, the metaphor for his main characters’ plight all along. It’s revealed in a unique way and even does touch deeply a real, tender soft-spot in struggling marriages that may resonate with viewers… but even that moment is stretched unbelievably thin, over-written to the point of exhaustion.

You can see the seeds of Bubble & Squeak and where they could grow into being a successful movie, but its burdened by its flaws. It’s easy to forgive heavily-borrowed inspiration if the film works on an entertainment level, but its dryness that is meant to evoke a specific tone of humor feels as though it dries up any enjoyment altogether. It’s a solid concept, just for its bizarreness alone, which is why it’s even more bizarre how it ended up coming out so uninteresting.