‘Joe Dirt’ Has Some Earthy Elements

David Spade’s name is above the title in “Joe Dirt,” but the real star is the mane of brown hair that swoops down the actor’s neck and settles on his shoulders. It screams of trailer trash, circa 1970s, a time and aesthetic that Spade’s character has been rooted in since the age of 8, when his parents left him behind when touring the Grand Canyon. And he has miraculously kept every stringy detail and detour in his mane’s elaborate path intact since that time, much in the way that a parent memorializes a son or daughter’s bedroom after a child’s premature death.

A caricature composite of every townie on the planet, Joe Dirt venerates brightly colored convertibles and the music of AC/DC, Van Halen and Lynyrd Skynyrd. Under that Farrah Fawcett Majors-cum-Rin Tin Tin head of hair is a basically decent guy, one who earns an honest living as a janitor and believes that “all I have to do is keep being a good person and good things will come my way.” But life is always dealing Joe a rough hand. He’s a blue-collar Candide who brings out the cruelty and disdain in everyone he meets.

Written by Spade (of TV’s “Just Shoot Me” and “Saturday Night Live” fame) and “SNL” head writer Fred Wolf, “Joe Dirt” is a farcical picaresque tale in which Joe’s lifelong search for his parents is related to a sneering talk-show jockey played by Dennis Miller. Among the friends he manages to pull out of the detritus of humanity are a Native American fireworks salesman who only likes sparklers (Adam Beach), a high school janitor with nefarious connections (Christopher Walken) and an alligator trainer (Roseanna Arquette). Yes, Joe will stick his head in an alligator’s mouth and yes, the alligator will try and have him for lunch.

Dirt is an engaging fool--well-meaning punching bags have been the soul of screen comedy since Keaton and Harold Lloyd. It’s unfortunate that he and his producers, Adam Sandler and Jack Giarraputo (whom we have to thank for “Deuce Bigelow: Male Gigolo”), seem to think that the world is just one big Joe Dirt trailer park. The jokes tend to drift toward that territory below the belt favored by people who would boast of their sexual prowess on their T-shirts. Dirt’s cup runneth over with excrement, fornicating animals and that perennial favorite of Hollywood comedy, homophobic slurs.

There are a couple of bright sparks here and there, particularly when Joe plays up to the white trash image people expect of him. If you are in touch with your inner 14-year-old child, you could do worse.

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* Rated: PG-13 for crude and sex-related humor, and for language. Times guidelines: Lewdness and scatology rule in this farcical ode to the basic goodness of white trash.

“Joe Dirt”

David Spade: Joe Dirt

Brittany Daniel: Brandy

Christopher Walken: Clem

Erik Per Sullivan: Little Joe Dirt

Dennis Miller: Zander Kelly

Columbia Pictures presents a Happy Madison/Robert Simonds production, released by Sony Pictures. Director Dennie Gordon. Producer Robert Simonds. Executive producers Adam Sandler, Jack Giarraputo. Screenplay by David Spade & Fred Wolf. Cinematographer John R. Leonetti. Editor Peck Prior. Costume designer Alexandra Welker. Music Waddy Wachtel. Production designer Perry Andelin Blake. Running time: 1 hour, 29 minutes.