While the character-driven script has a weakness for toilet humor (Mel Brooks would be proud), its inhabitants are given some oddball quirks and tics that keep things percolating when the plot development runs a little thin.

I knew the picture was in trouble when its first gag involved an old lady spewing obscenities.

Friday has energy, and sass, and the nerve to suggest that the line between tragedy and comedy may be in the bloodshot eye of the beholder.

Friday soars every time John Witherspoon (as Craig’s dad) is on screen, embarking on unstoppable improv jags about his job as a dog catcher.