ormal, Minnesota – a less-than-2000-population town with the slogan “We Like It Here” posted at the city limits – becomes the latest home for Ulysses (Bob Odenkirk), a sheriff who can’t quite seem to find himself after a deadly encounter on the job. Intending to stay for an 8-week temporary shift as the top law enforcer, he wants to leave Normal just the way he found it; and that shouldn’t be too difficult, considering that he’s phoning it in during his stay in the sleepy little district. After all, the standard predicaments at his department include sorting out arguments over parking, handing out a few tickets, and listening to residents complain about high prices or incorrect inventory – “low-stakes shenanigans,” as he calls them.

But the previous sheriff, Anthony Gunderson, died under somewhat suspicious circumstances. Plus, there’s a curious amount of guns and explosives stored all over the county, as if the citizenry is always prepared for a small war. And then there’s the issue of the yakuza from Osaka, whose unusual influence is destined to make everything a bit more abnormal.

Unnecessary narration and interruptive flashbacks start things off in a notably generic way; with Odenkirk playing the same character he’s portrayed in his last several films, there’s not a lot of surprises in the lengthy setup. He’s bound to be overqualified and suffering from previous workplace traumas, and harboring unlikely quickness, resilience to physical attacks, and dubious confidence in the face of certain doom. The opening sequences are also unexpectedly slow; lots of time is spent establishing a raft of eccentric characters, all of whom are fairly interchangeable and unimportant when it comes to the eventual mayhem. Everyone is slightly odd or excessively goofy, which doesn’t align competently with the darkness lurking under the small-town facade. From a yammering sidekick (Billy MacLellan) to a concerned barkeep (Lena Headey) to a quirky mayor (Henry Winkler) to a wannabe crook (Reena Jolly) to a rebellious youth (Jess McLeod) to an ambitious deputy (Ryan Allen), Normal is chock full of idiosyncratic personas – the kind that are really only found in the movies.

With all the foreshadowing concerning the serious firepower stored in every shop and the massive arsenal at the police station, it’s thoroughly predictable that chaos will unfold at some point; trouble is brewing, but it appears to be in no rush. When the powder-keg situation finally explodes in the last act, considerable violence breaks out, hoping to be comical in its extremeness. Unfortunately, as with many action/comedy predecessors that weren’t able to achieve a sensible balance (this one wishes to additionally impart a mild neo-Western vibe), the bloodshed here is so graphic and mutilative that it’s difficult to embrace the silliness (and that’s where the Western flavor completely vanishes). Much of it is so gruesome and sinister that it tends to douse the levity. And rather than following the specific, clever exploits of an improbable hero fighting back against superior numbers armed with greater weaponry, it’s also riddled with fortuitous accidents and convenient mishaps that allow the protagonists to survive confrontations that should have proven fatal.

None of “Normal” is very original, especially coming off the the types of actioners like “Nobody” and “John Wick” that some of the same producers also worked on. Most of the plot is too easy and convenient or nonsensically over-the-top for it to stand out, while the finale is unconvincing at best, stretching out the premise until it feels longer than two hours, despite actually running a mere 90 minutes. A few satisfying showdowns and one or two solid wisecracks aren’t enough to push “Normal” into the realm of memorable.

– Mike Massie