It's a black comedy that is not for the squeamish or the easily offended. It is very, very French.

Like fellow Frenchman Quentin Dupieux, Meurisse has an enjoyably devil-may-care attitude for the most part although he feels almost like Dupieux’s evil twin as he begins to stray, first, into Farrelly Brothers’ territory, then something more violent.

The film is undeniably drenched with potential. However, Meurisse leisurely settles for the surface level. In coincidence with the film’s boorish visual language, “Plastic Guns” amateurishly illuminates its euphoric themes with haphazard execution.

It’s a painfully unfunny comedy full of stupid, unpleasant people doing ugly things. Indeed, the only thing Meurisse holds in more contempt than his characters is his audience.