Christopher Guest is a maestro of the mockumentary whether he likes the term or not (he doesn’t). His movies shine a heckling light on some of art and culture’s more frenetic weirdos from community theater actors and dog show participants to folk artists looking to revive their claim to fame. The beauty of Guest’s work is that his characters lack grounding, and I mean that in the best way possible. They’re floating in the clouds–high on life and themselves with incredibly short-sighted priorities, i.e., winning the Mayflower Kennel Club Dog Show or securing that hefty awards season buzz for a movie that hasn’t been released yet. They carry the weight of the world on their shoulders for the silliest of reasons, and it’s this unfathomable tunnel vision that makes a Guest character so damn beautiful.

In Mascots, the formula and motivation remain the same, only this time, sports mascots are competing for the World Mascot Association’s championship award: the Gold Fluffy. Insert absurdity, Parker Posey, a competitive setting, and voila–you have yet another Guest movie!

As always, Guest’s revolving door of mainstay vets has always carried these movies past the finish line. It’s much of that same talent that helps deliver the movie’s deadpan jokes and zany premise. Just look at this list: Jane Lynch, Parker Posey, Fred Willard, Ed Begley, Jr., Zach Woods, Chris O’Dowd, Susan Yeagley, Sarah Baker, Tom Bennett, Kerry Godliman, Bob Balaban, Jennifer Coolidge. It’s a welcomed blend of Guest’s regular ensemble with some fresh blood mixed in. (Woods and Baker have particularly great chemistry together, though one does feel the absence of Catherine O’Hara and Eugene Levy–Guest’s usual coupled go-to’s). Also notable is Guest’s return as one of his most beloved characters ever: Waiting for Guffman‘s Corky St. Claire. A little nostalgia goes a long way.

But not far enough. Midway, Mascots starts to feel like a rerun of its predecessors, never fully able to stand on its own or proffer anything truly unique. Guest fans will be satisfied enough–the back and forth competitive snark between Begley Jr. and Lynch’s judges is worth the 89 minutes alone–but the film quickly feels like a caricature of the satires that came before it, except this time with far less depth and precision. Suffice it to say, the shtick has gotten pretty watered down.

The final competition scene is filled with hilarity and all sorts of eccentric choreography, so be sure to stick around for that ending. Just don’t look to these Mascots to get you too riled up.

Grade: B-

Stream Mascots on Netflix today! Or tomorrow even.