White T is a gigantic cop-out of a movie because rather than actually creating humorous situations or allowing its characters to have personality and verbal wit, the screen writing succumbs to the lowest common denominator of comedy by going for the immediate joke - the weight of the film's two main characters. The film puts such an emphasis on the fact that the identical twins at the forefront of the film are indeed grossly overweight that one wonders how this film was pitched to its actors. With no characters, a vague hint of a story, and a monotonous array of jokes and gags simply erected on the basic features of its actors, White T is an odious mess in nearly every aspect of filmmaking.
The film concerns Herbert and Henry Weatherspoon (Jerod and Jamal Mixon), two morbidly obese brothers who idolize a rapper by the name of Real Deal with their own hopes of becoming rappers. In order to get their chance to perform on stage with their favorite rapper, the two buy both of the freshest, cleanest white t-shirts in town in the only size they'll fit into, a 7XL. While the shirts only cost six dollars, the duo are convinced people will think they broke the bank buying the apparel for one of the hottest nights of their life. However, when a night of clubbing leads to the loss of the t-shirts, Herbert and Henry need to recover the shirts in hopes of even making it past the bouncers to enter the club where Real Deal performs.
When the characters aren't actively recovering their missing attire, the film descends into a wayward assembly of crudity and despicable characters, like Faizon Love's disgusting impression of a Hispanic man or one of the film's female characters that are no better than the sum of their body parts. Racial stereotypes take prominence over any formal character interest, and the film is so disjointed in its plot and its characters that motivations become just as murky as the humor.
The word for White T is discombobulated; a film with no sense of style, flair, direction, or itself. One couldn't even classify it as a stoner comedy because stoner comedies have to have some semblance of humor, which this particular film entirely lacks. Adding to its strangeness is how good the film looks in terms of a directorial standpoint, with tightly-framed, rather immaculate shots that aren't sloppy or blatantly indicative of a low budget, leading me to believe a solid amount of money was invested into the project.
Given how pervasive jokes about the leading characters' weights are, it'd be understandable to refer to White T as a one-note joke movie, but even one-note joke movies have a joke in the first place.
Starring: Jerod Mixon and Jamal Mixon. Directed by: Lance Frank.
