Programmer's Note

Bob Pickler (Ty Burrell) is known through­out the Midwest as “the Elvis of butter.” He raised butter carving from a mere pastime to a magisterial art with his legendary ren­derings of Newt Gingrich, a T. Rex eating a girl, The Last Supper and scenes from Schindler’s List — and he couldn’t have done any of it without the undying support of his wife Laura (Jennifer Garner). But when Bob announces his retirement, Laura — who always imagined Bob’s buttery glory as a stepping stone to the presidency — can’t cope with the possibility of the champi­onship title going to anyone other than a Pickler. So despite her lack of hands-on experience, she decides to enter herself in the next match. And for Laura Pickler, losing is not an option.

While the ultra-high-maintenance Laura embarks on her ruthless campaign to conquer all contenders, a young African-American orphan named Destiny (Yara Shahidi) is adopted by the Emmets (Alicia Silverstone and Rob Corddry), a kindly couple eager to prove themselves great parents — even if that means reluctantly encouraging Destiny’s participation in the traditionally redneck butter-carving con­test. Does a soft-spoken black girl no one knows have any chance against someone as fierce, rich, nefarious and white as the per­manently power-suited Laura Pickler?

Comedies don’t come more simultane­ously heartwarming and audacious than Butter. Destiny’s experiences with culture clash are just one of the film’s many sources of humanist hilarity. There’s also Brooke (Olivia Wilde), the resourceful stripper/ prostitute who puts the squeeze on Bob, who owes a sizable tab for her services, by seducing the Picklers’ teenaged daughter. (She also enters the contest, disguised as a born-again Christian, just to rattle Laura’s nerves.) And then there’s Boyd Bolton (Hugh Jackman), the car salesman Laura beds in exchange for his assistance in sabotaging Destiny’s chances. It all comes to a head in a final showdown that cuts like a warm knife through boundaries of race, class and age, leading to Destiny’s new sense of, er, destiny, and to Laura’s realization that perhaps her real career lies on the political path blazed by Sarah Palin.