In the first five minutes of the redneck comedian's film debut, we see Larry urinating on himself in the shower, flashing his butt crack, having a flatulence attack in front of his boss, and referencing the smell of "strawberry douche." At this point I turn to America and ask: why? Why Larry the Cable Guy? We had something sweeter and slightly funnier in the Jim Varney character Ernest years back, but that franchise was quickly ignored by audiences. This must be the cinematic gods making us all pay for our sins.

There's a plot to "Health Inspector," involving dim-witted and grotesque Larry and his butch partner Amy (Iris Bahr) trying to crack a ring of deliberate food poisonings the week before a local cooking competition. But if it's a plot you're after, then "Health Inspector" has not done its job properly. Directing novice (and I hope it stays that way) Trent Cooper is only there to keep the movie in focus (he even fails that at times) and to make certain there are enough fart jokes to keep the overlong running time rumbling. Seriously, you could make DVD chapters out of the number of times Larry, or anybody really, makes with the southern thunder. It culminates to a sequence where Larry fights a diarrhea attack in his love interest's bathroom that, and I can't believe I'm writing this, is stolen from a better, extraordinarily more clever film ("Dumb & Dumber").

That's how awful this picture is. It can't even come up with new diarrhea jokes.

When stand-up comics get big screen work, it usually implies that they will be replicating their act for the cameras, playing to the already converted for a quick buck. Not being all that familiar with Mr. the Cable Guy's material, I seriously weep for anyone who find this stunningly one-note performer funny. And this is coming from a person who thinks "Pootie Tang" is the bee's knees.

I respect that comedy is subjective, but the depths of awful this film sinks to are eye-opening. Making fun of the physically challenged? Jerry Mathers as the "big" cameo of the film? Scenes of mass vomiting? Enough Hooters product placement to swear off chicken wings for life? These are not the ingredients of a good dumb comedy. This, my friends, is the combination to the lock on the gates of hell.