Few adult experiences sting as much as a friendship breakup, a rejection in some ways more personal, hurtful and confusing than that of a romantic partner. And few actors are better equipped to mine the weird vulnerabilities, fixations and feelings of a platonic split like the cult comedy king Tim Robinson, co-creator and star of the Netflix sketch show I Think You Should Leave (ITYSL). Over three seasons, Robinson has built up a devoted in-the-know following for his situational comedy, generationally playing unrepentant characters with no impulse control or allegiance to social scripts, people whose untidy feelings derail otherwise normal situations into absurd tangles.
In other words, not the type of people to take rejection well. With Robinson as the unfortunate half of a buddy dump, Friendship, writer-director Andrew DeYoung’s strange and hilarious debut feature, spins comedy gold out the straight male loneliness epidemic. Robinson goes for broke as Craig, a typical ITYSL character: pathetic, awkward, estranged from social rituals, an oddball at once sweet and a little creepy. A guy baffled by the ease of other men and desperate for their approval, whose face displays the big emotions – anger, love, jealousy – in amusingly bold, bright primary colors.
Like many a Robinson creation, Craig lives an unremarkable life in the suburbs and works a white-collar corporate job – in “habit-forming” technology, one of many bits of idiosyncratic, highly quotable phrasing that has become its own love language among ITYSL fans. He has it all, in the view of a character satirizing the sadly limited horizons of many adult men: a loyal wife in cancer survivor Tami (Kate Mara, playing it straight), a reluctant companion in teenage son Steven (Jack Dylan Grazer), a job, a house, a car and the prospect of a new sick Marvel movie without spoilers.
But Craig’s world is turned upside down, brightened and forever altered, by the introduction of new neighbor Austin Carmichael (Paul Rudd), a local weatherman who oozes a particular kind of sad sack cool. Austin smokes, fronts a band, plays hooky, has other friends. Craig is immediately enamored, which Robinson plays with an uncontainable childlike enthusiasm gloriously at odds with his aggressively inane bits (much talk of “the only brand of clothes that fit me just right”, etc). DeYoung stages their tumble into one-sided bromance with the unflinching seriousness of a psychological drama – Austin at first sincerely charmed then put off by Craig’s obsessiveness, Craig sincerely intent on winning Austin’s affections and tantalized by the possibility of emotional bonds between other men. That is, until Austin suggests they “take a step back”, sending a relatably stung and confused Craig – for all its silly and surreal flourishes, Friendship keeps a beating heart – into a desperate spiral of obsession.
All with a healthy of absurdist comedy, of course, pulling unexpected guffaws out of small pockets of dialogue and big physical swings. The film drew consistently loud laughs at its SXSW premiere – it initially premiered at Toronto last fall, and will be wide-released by A24 in May – even as Craig’s insecurities and resentment devolve into a boundary-pushing level of cringe. DeYoung has said that he wrote the movie specifically for Robinson, which seems not only obvious but necessary – no one else could walk this fine a line between goofy and deranged, between endearing and unhinged. Rudd, meanwhile, strikes the right balance of comic exaggeration, straightforwardness and vulnerability for a man laughably pitiable in his own way. Like true frenemies, every interaction between them sparks.
Still, not all of the bits land. By the final act, the film’s off-kilter proceedings, tangents and Robinson’s penchant for yelling wear thin. Even as a fan, I am honestly shocked that what basically amounts to a 97-minute ITYSL sketch stays actually funny throughout, though a good 15 or so minutes of that threaten overexposure to the brand. But DeYoung sticks the landing with a touch of sweet in Craig’s otherwise curdled view of the friend who left him – an experience few people, especially straight men, are talking enough about. From “I just need some space” to the low-key fade out, the friendship demise can be a brutal time, and this one finds just enough pain in its weird and wonderful pleasures.
Friendship is screening at the SXSW film festival and will be released in US cinemas on 9 May with a UK date to be announced
