“You got to remember the normal people when you’re living your booshy lives.”

Justin’s rating: I mean, she can’t do much worse than some of the governors we have, right? *rimshot*

Justin’s review: Is there anything more tantalizing to a bad movie lover than a film that ended up being so embarrassing for its cast and crew that Powerful Forces have conspired to scrub it off of the internet entirely? That seems to be the case for Governor Gabbi, a family vanity production that got some unwanted attention from the “How Did This Get Made?” podcast and Seth Rogan’s professed love of its badness — and has since been yanked from every platform. Yet the internet never forgets, and Governor Gabbi’s political term is archived for posterity in corners of the web that can’t be touched by the film’s makers.

So of course I had to track this one down and subject myself to the confluence of politics, teenage apathy, and grossly negligent filmmaking. I felt it was my duty, all the more so because it doesn’t look like anyone else has really reviewed this. I will be a pioneer, as long as the Governor Gabbi hit squad doesn’t set its sights on me.

I’ve heard of implausible setups, but this one is quite special in its logic-bending goofiness. So the governor of California get tossed out for corruption, requiring a special vote. The intern tasked with creating the voting ballots also has a creepy crush on Gabbi, a college baking student, so he throws her name onto the register. As her competition is a “retired blogger” and a “tax lawyer,” Gabbi ends up winning by a nice margin. Thus, against her will or knowledge, she becomes one of the most powerful politicians in the country.

Her term in office is supported by the maniacal lieutenant governor who hopes to make Gabbi his puppet or get her to resign and then hand over the power to him. It’s completely unclear why he isn’t immediately promoted to be governor himself, but that’s just one of the delightful little mysteries this movie produces.

Yet instead of abdicating, Gabbi decides that she’ll give this gig a try, partially because some guy said there’s a “measure” that keeps her from resigning for three months. And because absolute power corrupts absolutely, she goes power mad by getting rid of all cars, refuses to pay for the assembly’s dry cleaning bill, and puts her stoner friend — named “Stoner” — in charge of cooking for state functions. She won’t let anyone call her “Governor” and keeps upsetting the system with her radical ways. You know, like refusing a salary, drinking beer with friends, chatting up followers on social media, and opening up the governor’s mansion to homeless people.

Of course, Gabbi becomes, like, totally popular with the people even as she continually frustrates her political foes. Win for the common half-baked college student!

To give the filmmakers credit, it’s clear they’re trying to give this movie a peppy, lighthearted comedy vibe. There are a lot of interesting camera angles, different ways of doing scenes (including one that’s just a bunch of text chat pop-ups), and upbeat music. In more experienced hands, this could’ve been another Dave, a pleasant blend of wish-fulfillment politics and comedy.

But those aren’t the hands that crafted Governor Gabbi. Nay, these hands never met a scene they didn’t fumble, nor a scene where they didn’t press “REPLACE WITH ADR” on the editing machine. Cartoony sound effects abound, everyone acts like they’re someone’s friend who was drafted into being in front of the camera, and scenes lurch about with the grace of a younger Tommy Wiseau. Oh, and there’s like a 10-minute scene where everyone starts talking in German about ice cream.

And while she’s not the worst actress I’ve ever seen, Gabbi’s Gabrielle Niebauer looks like a hungover teenager trying to channel the spirit of Anna Faris. The script calls for a whole lot of slapstick comedy, and she is absolutely lost trying to pull off that kind of nuanced humor.

I’m also pretty certain that the crew had a single suburban house for their filming location. We certainly spend a lot of time touring around the place, and some of the rooms are repurposed for, say, a press conference room. If the rumors that this movie was funded by Niebauer’s family are true — and we do know that it was written by a relative as well — then I suspect that this might be her own house.

To set expectations right, Governor Gabbi would be quite comfortable in a graduating class consisting of Birdemic, A Talking Cat!?!, and Love on a Leash. Unfortunately, I doubt that Governor Gabbi will join the big dogs in this bad movie genre despite having the chops. Its lack of availability and relative obscurity makes it interesting to demented people like you and I, but unless we’re going to go put this movie on every ballot until the larger internet notices, it’s never going to be cult.

Intermission!

• This is the happiest baking music ever
• What is she making in that bowl, one-half of a muffin?
• Apparently bake sales have voting contests where the ballot box has to be physically run across town. Who knew?
• The very noisy opening credits
• That stoner dude just scraped a chip on Gabbi’s arm and then ate it
• The texting segment is… well, it’s something else
• The ADR here is killer
• It’s been a long time since I’ve seen someone break out the “W” and do a “what-ev-er!”
• “You’re such a wart!”
• What an evil laugh you have, Mr. Lt. Governor
• “Did youuuu?” text pop-up had me laughing harder than it should’ve
• You would think that the media would be covering this unexpected election surprise
• You would also think that a politician wrapping his hand around a girl’s throat in public and strong-arming her would be slightly newsworthy
• “You’ve just been elected governor! Of the state!” “WHAAAAAT”
• Hey a free house in California is a free house, especially in this market
• Who’s fully furnished house is this?
• His assistant looks like he’s 14 years old
• Blankets can knock you to the floor and keep you trapped for far longer than you’d think
• Her press conference is taking place is someone’s living room using a computer desk as a pulpit
• “Hello peeps… everyone…”
• She announces that she’s getting rid of ALL CARS in the state and replacing them with busses? Truly, a movie has never dared be this political before.
• The great dresser moving scene: “Do you even lift, bro?”
• I think she killed Mark
• Why is she crawling on top of the dresser now?
• No more paper doesn’t mean “no more toilet paper”
• I like her “Suck it up cupcake” shirt
• You know what a political comedy needs? A workout montage!
• I think she killed Mark again
• Tossing around a beachball takes serious muscles
• “For God’s sake, you fop-doodle, what the hell are you talking about?”
• Rocking out in the kitchen
• She whitened her teeth. Can you tell?
• And now for an entire scene in German
• I don’t think this Italian chef could be any more of a stereotype
• Gabbi’s gigantic fedora
• “One foot in the hole and the other on a banana peel!” [cue zoom in on banana peel]
• That is like the most vague set of inspirational promises ever put forth by a vacuous politician’s mind
• “I want a memo. Yoga mandatory, three times a week.”
• What is a “moonbat?” Because this movie keeps calling people that.