Far be it from me to declare that an entire genre of film is dead, but shit, the reels that make up Finishing the Game would probably be just as useful as a tombstone on mockumentary's grave. Flat, awkward, and forced, Finishing the Game isn't terribly directed or sloppily acted—it's just that its concept is so muddled, its script is so uninspired, and its genre so tired that the whole thing feels like a Mad TV sketch.
Helmed by Hollywood director Justin Lin (who earned some indie cred with Better Luck Tomorrow before mainstreamin' it with The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift and Annapolis), Finishing the Game wonders what would happen if Bruce Lee's unfinished final project, Game of Death, was to be half-assedly and posthumously completed, using a stand-in to stretch out the scant footage Lee actually filmed. (As kung fu nerds are doubtlessly aware, this actually happened—kind of nullifying Finishing the Game's supposedly wacky premise.) Focusing on a naïve first-time director (Jake Sandvig) and his domineering casting advisor (Meredith Scott Lynn), Finishing the Game's real stars are the desperate wannabe Lees, including copycat Breeze Loo (Roger Fan); a white guy who thinks he's Chinese (McCaleb Burnett); and Raja (Mousa Kraish), an Indian doctor who gives up his medical practice to become an actor.
What follows is clunky and flat, without a single laugh throughout its 88 minutes. (One bizarre element of note, however, is that while there are forced cameos from Ron Jeremy, James Franco, and George Takei, MC Hammer—in his first major role since that terminally depressing Behind the Music—bewilderingly takes the cake by playing Roy Thunder, a boisterous casting agent.) It's all scattershot yet bland, and nothing quite clicks. Maybe Lin is clowning on Hollywood, or maybe on his characters, or maybe on documentaries in general. Your guess is as good as mine, but if one has to ask what the subject of a joke is, it probably isn't a very good one.