Friendship (2024) - Film Review

      Friendship, 2025.

      Written and Directed by Andrew DeYoung.

      Starring Tim Robinson, Paul Rudd, Kate Mara, Jack Dylan Grazer, Rick Worthy, Whitmer Thomas, Daniel London, Eric Rahill, Jacob Ming-Trent, Billy Bryk, Meredith Garretson, Ari Dalbert, Josh Segarra, Raphael Sbarge, Omar Torres, Jason Veasey, Jon Glaser, Carmen Christopher, Mike J Mills, Alex Webb, Juri Henley-Cohn, Desi Waters, Brandi Burkhardt, Andhy Méndez, John Cenatiempo, Teren Carter, Ivy Wolk, Conner O’Malley, Craig Frank, and James Daly.

      SYNOPSIS:

      A suburban father becomes infatuated with his charming new neighbor.

      Writer/director Andrew DeYoung quickly establishes the type of character Tim Robinson’s Craig is in the hilariously chaotic Friendship (and while I haven’t watched the Netflix series myself, anyone familiar with I Think You Should Leave likely has a general sense of his persona). When his wife Tami (Kate Mara) brings up in a group therapy session for cancer survivors that she hasn’t been experiencing orgasms, Craig abruptly interjects to share that he has them regularly. This reveals that he is somewhat self-centered, but also potentially a harmless fool, considering it’s a comedy. This observation holds true, as Craig is also an embodiment of insecurity, with an intense need for validation.

      Craig remains oblivious to this until Tami encourages him to seek a male friend instead of lounging on the couch every evening, disrupting the quality time she shares with their teenage son Steven (Jack Dylan Grazer). He also rambles incessantly about wanting to see the new “Marvel” movie, stating that it’s crazy (which suggests the film is set several Marvel movies ago), sounding completely out of touch with the saga and comic/superhero culture, revealing either a peculiar nature or a deep desire for social acceptance. Watching Craig (and laughing at him) is akin to witnessing someone struggle to fit in without a basic grasp of what they’re trying to assimilate into.

      Craig is also obstinate, which is likely why he resists his wife’s suggestion, prompting her to express a desire to reconnect with her ex-partner. However, a misdelivered package forces Craig to visit his neighbor, who is revealed to be Paul Rudd’s effortlessly cool nighttime weatherman, Austin. Their contrasting lifestyles become immediately clear: Craig is a dull marketing specialist, unashamed of his job promoting mediocre products, earning little respect from his co-workers. His existence is often a nuisance, as demonstrated in a scene where he awkwardly navigates a narrow hallway while holding steaming coffee. In contrast, Austin excels in his profession, appears on television nightly, plays in a rock band, enjoys a happy marriage, and hosts exciting gatherings with his friends.

      At first, Austin takes Craig under his wing, encouraging him to be more adventurous and expanding his musical interests, which serves as a perfect excuse for Andrew DeYoung to brilliantly incorporate Slipknot’s classic track Wait and Bleed. Soon enough, Craig begins to mimic Austin's lifestyle by preparing new breakfast dishes for his family, driving to the same music, and considering becoming a drummer. He even deceives Austin about his own respect in the workplace, urging him to request the daytime weather slot if he’s interested, as it had worked for him.

      One night, while hanging out with the guys, Craig crosses a line during an activity and embarrasses himself during an apology, leading Austin to cut off the friendship. While the film is already comedic, the absurdity escalates from that point as Craig goes to extreme lengths to win back the friendship, all while unwittingly spiraling into self-destruction in his personal life. Meanwhile, Austin faces his own insecurities and missteps, but he knows how to conceal them from his circle (the myth of Paul Rudd’s eternal youth is humorously exploited here). At times, one may wish for the film to balance screen time better, as there seems to be more depth to Austin that isn’t fully explored.

      Friendship is a comedy so amusing that the jokes ought not to be dissected. What distinguishes the film is Andrew DeYoung’s ability to avoid the typical dramatic third act that had outstayed its welcome during the Judd Apatow comedy era (and even earlier). The aim is to deliver laughs throughout while seamlessly integrating character development and commentary on obsession and toxic male friendships into the humor. Andrew DeYoung also skillfully incorporates callbacks to earlier moments, setting them up cleverly to catch viewers off guard and keep them laughing.

      It might be too soon to say, but this may prove challenging to surpass as the funniest pure comedy of the year. I defend this claim amidst Hollywood's disappointing trend of relegating the genre to a