I’ve seen Run, Fatboy, Run a couple times now (read my SXSW review), and I’ll still recommend it for Dylan Moran alone. But I’ll also agree that it’s far from great. In fact, it has a lot of flaws, most of which stem from the film’s uneven pace (perhaps fitting for a comedy about a marathon?) and the lack of a definite goal (ill-fitting for a comedy about a marathon — the movie has no real narrative finish line, only a literal one). I’ll even concur with the criticisms that it is awfully conventional, though I believe that by nature comedy has to be conventional in at least some way in order to function correctly.

However, the one thing I will not tolerate in negative reviews of Run, Fatboy, Run, of which there are many, is its being called a derivative romantic comedy. Derivative, sure; as I mentioned, it is conventional, and it is predictable, and it does seem very, very familiar, plot-wise (name me 10 classic comedies that aren’t). But romantic comedy? I can’t say exactly how many critics are labeling the film as such, but going by blurbs found on Rotten Tomatoes, there are at least seven, including “top critic” Desson Thomas of the Washington Post. Sorry, guys, but that’s just lazy reviewing from lazy critics who aren’t even paying attention to a film’s story, let alone displaying a basic sense of film study. I may not have seen enough films from before I was born (because, of course, no critic can see enough), but at least I know the definition of romantic comedy. The meaning is right there in the genre name, after all.

Run, Fatboy, Run is missing the romance part of the equation. It’s not about a guy and a girl meeting and falling in love. It’s about a guy who ditched his pregnant bride at the altar, which makes it almost a part of the screwball comedy subgenre, many films of which begin with a breakup or divorce or acknowledgment of such a separation that happened prior to the film’s start. But those films follow the estranged couple on a course back to reunification. Run, Fatboy, Run, on the other hand, is clearly more about how the guy doesn’t want another guy to marry his ex than it is about him truly wanting to win back his ex. And thankfully, the movie doesn’t end with a kiss between a reunited couple, because, really, no woman should so easily take back a man who left her in such a way just because he runs a marathon.

So, criticize Run, Fatboy, Run all you want, and tell us why it’s a bad comedy, but don’t say it’s a bad romantic comedy. Obviously it’s a bad romantic comedy, as much as it’s a bad horror comedy, as much as it’s a bad political comedy, as much as it’s a bad science fiction comedy.