It occurred to me that three of my favourite comedies of recent years end with displays of what can best be described as idiot glee. And I figured that was worth writing about. Napoleon Dynamite climaxes in a delicious scene of sincere and dismal dancing by Jon Heder as he struts his awkward stuff on behalf of his best buddy. School of Rock has a musical finale as Jack Black leads the kids in a triumphant musical showcase, with sincerity the keynote again. And you’ll not need to guess the tone of the conclusion of Little Miss Sunshine, as young actress Abigail Breslin bravely boogies through a dance routine devised by her heroin-tootin’ grandpa, with the assistance of her dysfunctional family. What is it about these displays of honest ineptness that grabs me, and is there something that can be learned, given that all three films received critical and box office success?

Part of what’s appealing is the cult of the amateur: Napoleon is a geek of some calibre, and that’s affecting compared to the polished sheen that other characters at school display in vying for success in the school elections. Not that Napoleon would compete in such a contest: but his similarly outcast Mexican friend Pedro is ambitious, and Napoleon will do anything for his amigo. In School of Rock, the kids are competing against seen-it-all rockers twice and more their age, and their energy is refreshing – more so since the performers here really are kid musicians, rather than young actors. And with Little Miss Sunshine, Abigail is up against some truly vile creations, also competing to become junior beauty pageant winners.

Hmm: three films about geeks competing against slick operators, and heart winning through (well, in Little Miss Sunshine, Abigail doesn’t capture the crown, but her performance is a moral victory that wins her family their collective mojo back, which is far more important). This is starting to look like a subgenre. Any other contenders? Jon Heder takes his routine on ice in Blades of Glory, this time in a double act where he and Will Ferrell compete against dastardly schemers to win the prize. And Dodgeball sees Vince Vaughan’s renegade team win out against corporate drones.

So, the template is clear enough. And it’s not a far remove from the standard comedy template, in truth. The competition element allows underdogs a showcase to become heroes and provides a readymade structure for the narrative, and there’s something immensely appealing about the idiot glee of naïve climactic performances that provides an emotionally satisfying conclusion to the films.

Of course, given that this is film we’re dealing with, the naivity is carefully crafted, the bumbling directed to the nth degree…but there’s still something in it that can capture the attention. And, to quote systems thinking forerunner Gregory Bateson from his awesome Steps to an Ecology of Mind: “…without these paradoxes the evolution of communication would be at an end. Life would then be an endless interchange of stylised messages, a game with rigid rules, unrelieved by change or humor.” And we wouldn’t want that, would we?