Friendship (dir. Andrew DeYoung)
It’s not an understatement to say that Tim Robinson is having a moment right now. I Think You Should Leave has become immediately iconic, Detroiters has found a second life in streaming, and legions of Tim-forward sketches from his time as a writer on SNL are once again seeing the light of day. He’s even at the center of what was easily the best commercial during the most recent Super Bowl (Go Birds!). The next logical move is for him to make the jump to leading man. But when you’re dealing in style of comedy that’s defined by how random it is (and how much yelling a single sketch can contain), is it possible to sustain a feature length film?
The answer to this question is entirely in the eye of the beholder. Fans of Tim Robinson will likely agree that Friendship succeeds at being more than just a bunch of strung together bits. Non-fans will want to burn the theater down and never see another movie again for as long as they live.
Robinson plays Craig, a husband and father who works at a company with the express goal of making products more addictive. Every night he sits in his chair and scrolls his phone, and when his wife Tami (Kate Mara) points this out to him, he suggests that they go see “the new Marvel” (which is apparently so good that it making people LITERALLY GO INSANE). The mailman frequently delivers packages to the wrong address, and it’s when Craig brings an errant parcel to his new neighbor Austin (Paul Rudd) that his life takes on new meaning. Austin is COOL. He’s friendly, he drinks beer with his bros, he’s in a band, he collects ancient rocks that are evidence of humankind’s first foray into crafting and using tools — he everything Craig wants to be, and then some. Naturally, the two hit it off.
More naturally, Craig quickly blows it, citing “you made me too comfortable! You gave me too much freedom!”
Friendship is a hard movie to spoil, but I hesitate to say anything further about the plot, partially because what I already described is really the long and short of it, and partially because if I gave any specific details you probably wouldn’t believe me. Similarly to I Think You Should Leave, the plot beats consist mostly of random bits of insanity. Yet the story aspect, namely that of a man who, for all his efforts, can’t seem to connect with anyone, is rather well-crafted. The title of Robinson’s show is in reference to the fact that any single sketch, if extended just a few more seconds, could end with someone telling the central character (typically Robinson) that he should indeed leave. But at feature length there’s nowhere for him to go, and DeYoung’s script, while leaning on what I’m sure are endless instances of stream-of-consciousness improv, never allows for the easy out of a cut. Yes, Craig probably should leave, but his life goes on beyond the bit, and he has to contend with the fallout.
When dealing with “strange guy in a normal world” comedy, the gags almost write themselves, but Friendship takes a different approach. Craig is indeed a strange guy, but the world he’s in is not a normal one: Austin and his friends lovingly break out into Ghost Town DJs’ My Boo when any of them need emotional support; Tami still kisses her teenage son on the lips, and sensually so; the local watering hole serves a 22,000 calorie Seal Team Six meal that recreates what its namesake ate “after killing Osama.” The world of Friendship (which, per the mail, takes place in “Clovis, USA”) is far from normal, but Craig is just so much weirder. At the same time, his motivations are a reaction to the world he inhabits, and all make some semblance of sense, even if the actions they inspire are …insane.
The tagline of the film is, quite hilariously, “Men shouldn’t have friends.” I sound like a broken record lately if you’ve been reading my reviews, but I find it refreshing that we’re seeing a lot of stories recently about how patriarchal society fails men too, and I think that Friendship is touching upon this idea a bit, albeit using bizarre comedy to do so. Craig lives in a world where he’s not really supposed to express himself, and when an opportunity finally arrives for him to do so, he has no clue where to begin.
The Threesome (dir. Chad Hartigan)
It’s almost a foregone conclusion that romantic comedies are going to be twee, uninspired, or both. They’ll be predictable from the outset, and usually end up serving some dated notion of what a “normal” coupling should look like. The central characters are usually blank slates upon which any personality in the audience can project itself, providing ample opportunity to think “that’s so me” as our protagonists declare their love for one another to a bouncy needledrop. They’ve defied all the odds and now everything is perfect! Because love! It’s just like real life.
Except it’s not like real life. Here in the real world romance is messy, painful, and offen downright impossible to manage. And even if you find yourself in a dream situation, there’s the very real chance it could simply crumble. Happily ever after my assssssssss. Surely, we’re talking about fiction here, so I should offer some wiggle room (I am admittedly a sucker for even the most saccharine rom-com), but it would be nice to see something new within the genre. Last year’s delightful The Idea of You managed to tread novel ground, but it did so through a central character who was hard to relate to on account of her being a perfectly rich art gallery owner (yes, here in the real world finances and romance are inextricably tied).
Enter The Threesome, an uncommonly sexy, adult rom-com with a premise that forces the story into new territory. I’ll tread carefully here so as not to spoil a first reel reveal that is best left in the film’s hands: Connor (Jonah Hauer-King) and Olivia (Zoey Deutch) are co-workers with a sort of will they/wont they thing going on between them. They had sex once and are clearly into one another, but Olivia’s fiery personality and Connor’s extreeeeeemely chill (perhaps too chill) personality have them at odds. In an atypical meet/cute, Connor approaches Jenny (Ruby Cruz), a young woman who has been stood up by a date and is dining alone. They hit it off, and they do so while Olivia is watching. One thing leads to another and now all three of our protagonists are having a drunken evening together. The title happens, and things soon get complicated. Very complicated. So much so that all three players are going to have to make some huge, life-altering decisions that mix old-school notions of romance with more contemporary concepts of human coupling. A threesome indeed.
The script is regularly surprising, drawing character-based humor and compelling drama from real-world relationship concerns. In a lot of ways, it’s exactly how a situation such as the one I’m working hard not to spoil could go down in real life. Even so, I was never sure of the film’s ultimate destination, and given the story’s sexually and socially frank nature, a happy ending is at no point guaranteed.
The supporting cast brings much of the film’s humor. SNL legend Julia Sweeney plays Connor’s supportive mother with hilarious “excited grandmother” energy, and dependable character actor Robert Longstreet (you know him and you love him) is about the most accurate “you will respect my daughter or I will harm you” father type your apt to see. But it’s Jaboukie Young-White as Greg the “gay best friend” who conjures the biggest laughs. He will be the lead of a great comedy film one day, I just know it.
The one area where The Threesome misfires is in its leading man. He’s well-cast, well-performed, and about as adorable as can be, but he’s a bit of a one-note creation in terms of the script. He’s charming, kind, and perfectly supportive to the women in his life at every turn. You love to see it, and he’s certainly an aspirational figure, but at the same time, I wanted him to crack at least once. What he endures throughout the movie is insane, and never once does he buckle under the pressure. Smiles for miles. It’s hard to buy.
