I don’t have much good to say about Paul Blart: Mall Cop. While the film does have a bit of a touching charm with a heavy-set man struggling to find love in a fatphobic world, and some of the physical gags are amusing, most everything else is forgettable comedy; the writing is mediocre at best and though the script aims to make the “wacky mall comedy” realistic by subverting tropes, it is done in a lazily lackluster way; needless to say, the writers effort to make a parody failed. Combine that with the film’s numerous Ableist jokes and ethnic stereotypes all suffused under a sense of cop worship, and you have a tedious, unfunny text. In short, if Blart were a haiku, it would describe a toxic waste dump. I am sure that a certain kind of person would find this film amusing, but I am not that person. But, hey, should anything else be expected from a Happy Madison production?