And she wonders: What if she had an endless supply of such coupons and could sell them for profit? She enlists neighbor JoJo (Howell-Baptiste), who seems to understand from the start that this may constitute, oh, a crime?
#Quip coupon free#
She's thrilled to get a coupon for a free box. One day Connie eats some stale Wheaties and decides to complain to the company. "That was impressive," notes the man behind her. At the supermarket, she's presented with a bill of $138.55, but triumphantly hands over a wad of discounts to get to $16.45. There's one thing, though, that gives Connie satisfaction: coupons. Unsuccessful fertility treatments have put the couple in debt.
Bell is an expert at using her endlessly perky exterior to hide devious intentions, and as for Howell-Baptiste, somehow she makes us root for her no matter what she's doing - such as negotiating a gun sale to a possible right-wing militia.Ĭonnie (Bell) is a frustrated housewife in a loveless marriage to a dry IRS auditor (Joel McHale in a fairly thankless role). Aside from Hauser, we have the appealing duo of Kristen Bell and Kirby Howell-Baptiste as the coupon criminals. The shame is that an excellent cast could have been better served. There's a critique of capitalism, and an intriguing buddy relationship between two women with very different lives but shared goals. Writer-directors Aron Gaudet and Gita Pullapilly offer up a commentary on the value of work. But like many themes here, it gets muddled into a confusing - though often highly entertaining - pastiche of ideas and styles. This alone could have made the germ of a movie: the psychology of discount shopping. It's the buzz - the "coupon high" they get when they score a deal. But 20 percent? Maybe I did need socks? I suddenly recalled what Ken, the hapless "loss prevention officer" played by a terrific Paul Walter Hauser, said in the film about why people use coupons: It's not usually because they need the stuff. It offered 20 percent off, for a popular brand of socks.