Film review: Friendship (plus ticket giveaway)

There is an art to the briefest and most effective way to introduce a character. A glance can do a lot of the legwork, as does the first thing the character says. In the case of Friendship, we are introduced to our hero (if we can call him that), Craig (Tim Robinson), with his wife Tami (Kate Mara) in a support group for cancer survivors and their families. Tami is airing her concerns after surviving the disease, and how scared she is that it will come back. Craig interjects, with what I can only describe as annoying, patronising futility, saying “it’s not going to come back”. First thing he says, we learn that Craig is the kind of idiot who cannot read social cues and would rather say something inane to fill the gap of the awkward silence.

If you know the work of Robinson in his sketch comedy show, I Think You Should Leave, then you already know this about the character the moment he appears on the screen. A master of the cringeworthy, uncomfortable comedy, Robinson usually portrays functioning morons on the verge of a mental breakdown. In a viral sketch, he tries to create a chain of “paying for the next person on the drive-thru” just so he can have someone else pay for his ridiculously stupid order, only to then throw a tantrum when the other client refuses to honour it. The mere sight of Robinson in a dark beige puffer jacket is enough to induce a wince from me. Like watching 50 car crashes in a row, each more gruesome than the other.

Friendship starts when Craig meets his new neighbour Austin (Paul Rudd), a local weatherman with a punk rock band willing to break the rules with measure. He lures Craig to hang out with him because he’s a guy’s guy, a proper dude, a beer-drinking, cigarette-smoking bro who blasts Slipknot’s Wait And Bleed in his car like he’s the coolest kid in 1999. Craig is charmed and retrofits his personality to meet Austin, but as he becomes more comfortable in this social interaction, he behaves so weirdly on a night with Austin’s friends that everyone is weirded out.

The rest of the film is the descent of an incompetent man as he tries to claw his way back into a friendship that probably only lived in his head. In the process, he exposes how no one, not even his wife, son and co-workers, has ever respected him and merely tolerated his strange demeanour. Every new attempt is a flinch-inducing situation where Craig not just digs a hole for himself but torpedoes his whole body to the bottom of the earth. Do you remember that episode of The Office US where Steve Carell’s Michael Scott has to tell an entire class of underprivileged kids who idolise him that, instead of paying for their tuition, like he promised, they are instead receiving laptop batteries? Friendship is 90 minutes of that – unrelentless and hard to watch, and yet I can’t look away.

It’s hard to tell how much of this is because of writer-director Andrew DeYoung. He shoots the film well, particularly in the way the world is drab and uninspiring, which makes Craig, in his brown outfit, blend in with the background. He dresses like his personality – an affront to good taste.

But this is Robinson’s show: not just the role he was born to play, but one he’s been perfecting for his entire career. There’s a scene later, when Craig decides to elevate his inept bad boy shtick by doing drugs and bafflingly does so via licking a psychotropic toad. It’s  wonder of offbeat comedy in a scene that leads to nowhere. It could’ve easily been removed without affecting the whole plot, but the film would’ve been worse without it.

And yet, even though Friendship is hilarious if you’re into this sort of thing (I am), it’s also profoundly sad and honest. The genius of Robinson (and DeYoung) is that they represent the sum of our insecurities. There were moments there that I thought to myself how easy it could be for me to lose any common sense and behave like a narcissistic moron. Part of the horror, and in a stroke of genius DeYoung does shoot some scenes like Friedkin shot The Exorcist, is that there is a little bit of Craig in all of us.

Tim Robinson’s comedy style, like Larry David’s Curb Your Enthusiasm, is my litmus test when recommending comedy to new acquaintances. I understand his comedy is not for everybody. It may not be for you. But if you’re a sick weirdo who takes pleasure in watching a person tearing apart every expectation of social interaction, then this is one for you.

Verdict: 4 out of 5
For anyone who thrives in the throes of cringeworthy and embarrassing humour. Unashamed fans of Tim Robinson or people who think that I Love You, Man needed to be darker (I subscribe to all this)

Ticket Giveaway: Four Letters of Love

LSJ Online and Reset collective have five double tickets for the upcoming romantic drama Four Letters of Love

Starring Pierce Brosnan, Helena Bonham Carter, and Gabriel Byrne, and directed by Polly Steele, Four Letters of Love is a sweeping Irish drama about destiny, family, and the mysterious ways love finds us. A heartfelt and beautifully told story based on Niall Williams’ best-selling novel, it hits Australian cinemas on July 24. Click here to watch the trailer.

For a chance to win one of the double passes, email journal@lawsociety.com.au with the subject line FOUR LETTERS OF LOVE by Tuesday 22 July.