Henry O'Brien
Describing the comedic stylings of Tim Robinson, briefly a former Saturday Night Live writer and now the star of Netflix’s I Think You Should Leave, feels like as much of a challenge as it is for Robinson’s characters to have a normal conversation. Robinson’s ability to seem like he’s the only one who thinks he’s not crazy, when in reality he actually is, creates an uncomfortable and gut-busting comedic effect that’s virtually impossible to replicate. This is especially the case as each of Robinson’s skits continues to linger on.
You just have to wonder how on earth, during a skit like the Darmine Doggy Door, Robinson can keep up his mixture of rage, confusion and bewilderment for extended periods of time and for multiple takes in a row.
But for any fans of his show that wonder what a movie-length episode would look like, look no further than Andrew DeYoung’s debut feature Friendship, which screened at this year’s South by Southwest. The film stars Robinson as suburban father and husband Craig Waterman, whose life begins to spiral out of control with the arrival of his new neighbor and weatherman, Austin (Paul Rudd). Robinson, bringing a near-identical energy and style to what he does on I Think You Should Leave, finds the perfect foil in Rudd, who plays a role not too dissimilar from his role in the Anchorman films.
Craig lives a simple, yet deceivingly peaceful life with his wife Tami (Kate Mara) and his son Steven (Jack Dylan Grazer), who still kisses his mother on the lips. While Tami still thinks about her recovery from cancer and struggles to fit all her plants into her tiny minivan, Craig is excited about the “new Marvel” that’s apparently supposed to be nuts. But his world turns upside down once he meets Austin, a male friend who seems to open up a whole new level of freedom that Craig was seemingly unaware of all along.
As Austin starts to let Craig into his life, however, the quirks and flaws start to become glaringly apparent, like when Robinson’s character eats a bar of soap as a self-imposed punishment for hurting Austin in a light boxing match. Every little body movement he makes and line of dialogue Robinson says feels as if an alien is trying (poorly) to blend in amongst the humans. Even walking across the street, Robinson, usually donning a brown puffy coat in this film, looks like a creature from another dimension in the cadence of his steps.
The continuing attempts from Craig to try and impress Austin lead to more awkwardness and confusion. He tries so desperately to be like one of the fellas, even licking a toad. But even in these attempts, Craig disappoints himself, by not having a wacky trip and instead having a hallucination of ordering a sandwich at Subway. While Craig seems to lose more control, veering further and further into Robinson’s ITYSL persona, you can feel the human-impulse to feel bad for him. Who among us, especially among men, haven’t felt a desire to be just one of the guys?
Robinson’s performance remains one of the funnier performances in recent memory, but Rudd is nearly as humorous and adds to the larger sense of belonging in Friendship. In the brief snippets we get of Austin reporting on the weather, we see a man who gets bullied and disrespected by his co-workers. Rudd, like in his performances in Ant-Man and Anchorman, can depict a confident loser. So although Austin seems to have plenty of friends outside of work, he struggles to find that feeling in other parts of his life.
It’s part of why Austin can’t fully let Craig go. DeYoung, in a post-screening Q&A, described Paul Thomas Anderson’s The Master as an inspiration to his film. But Friendship could easily find inspiration from Phantom Thread, where the two main characters’ relationship fluctuates in a perverse loop. At one moment, Austin will want to have nothing to do with Craig. But once either Austin and Craig are stuck in a bind together, there are true sparks of friendship between them.
All of these comedic dynamics between the two neighbors have a backdrop of dread. Keegan DeWitt’s score features plenty of strings and deep ambiance that create much more the kind of atmospheric setting found in a horror movie rather than in a studio comedy. Additionally, the cinematography from Andy Rydzewski has a stately feeling that resembles the oppressively horrific films of Kiyoshi Kurosawa like Cure or Chime. There’s a level of understatement in the shots of Craig inside his home, where he can typically be stewing about his failed friendship, leaving room for a sense of unease—it’s almost as if some malaise is present inside this modern-day suburbia, where humans increasingly fail to communicate with one another.
Craig’s relationship with his wife underscores this feeling, especially as she longs for something more than her husband. She increasingly grows comfortably resigned and frustrated to how Craig just forgets frequent details of her life. While the film only lingers on these moments of Tami, not fully uncovering the surface of her feelings and her experiences, some of the most harrowing moments in the film include Craig trying to re-create for his wife some of his best moments with Austin. This includes a scene where the couple submerges into a set of sewer systems, where Tami has a moment of clarity and epiphany.
Friendship at times can feel like a standard horror film about our own stilted relationship with one another. But it’s clearly a comedy because of Robinson’s performance. He becomes the engine and ultimate source of cringe humor that may be an acquired taste for some, similar to feelings of I Think You Should Leave. If you do find yourself an enjoyer of Robinson’s type of comedy, then Friendship will become one of your favorite comedies of the decade.
