Connie’s idea is simple. She and JoJo convince two married factory workers in Mexico to ship them unused sheets of coupons. These they sell online to cash-strapped housewives willing to pay $10 for a $20 value. It’s a victimless crime, Connie believes, and the film’s bright colors and sophomoric needle-drops don’t offer much dissent. When Connie costumes herself in a prim blue dress to win favors from bank officers, the soundtrack plays, yes, “Devil With a Blue Dress.
To these multi-hyphenate corporations, moving a factory from Ohio to Mexico is like snipping a half-off coupon for human labor. A jumbo pack of toilet paper on sale isn’t much different than Connie herself, whose skill in slashing the weekly grocery bill goes underappreciated by her IRS employee husband and the aggrieved check-out clerk of her local Phoenix supermarket.
Here, everything and everyone feels undervalued: Connie by her husband, JoJo by bankers who’ve hobbled her ability to start a legitimate business, Ken by his bossy employers, and even Ken’s idol Simon , a postal inspector aware he’s less-respected than the FBI.