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Common wisdom has it that today's comedies have become increasingly crude. Though not bad in and of itself, this crudity is rarely accompanied by any redeeming factors. It has all too often become an end in and of itself. The most notable holdout is Judd Apatow, who has written, directed, or produced an incredible number of comedic gems over the last several years. Count Forgetting Sarah Marshall among them.
Anyone reading this review is surely familiar with the setup, which is relatively straightforward: Peter Bretter (Jason Segal, who also wrote the film) is a composer for a cliché TV crime procedural called "Crime Scene." It stars Sarah Marshall, his girlfriend of five years, and Billy Baldwin (who gets to deliver such lines as "I think it's gonna be hard for her to reenter the pageant...without a face").
A few minutes into the film, Sarah breaks up with Peter while he's coming out of the shower, and he drops his towel in shock, revealing his shame in more ways than one. He tries to console himself by sleeping around, but he does it for all the wrong reasons and slinks further into depression. Eventually, his half-brother Brian (Saturday Night Live's Bill Hader) intervenes, and tells him he has to get away. Peter decides to go to Hawaii, largely because Sarah had suggested it while they were still together.
Of course, he soon learns that Sarah's there, too, and she's not alone. Accompanying her is British pop star stereotype Aldous Snow (Russell Brand), who is so unapologetically debaucherous that he makes Keith Richards look like a prude. This obviously interferes with Peter's grieving process, but he decides to stick it out.
Segal's screenplay hits the "Wizard of Oz" trifecta here in that it has a brain (it's consistently witty), a heart (Segal's character is a truly sympathetic everyman), and courage (he was brave enough to write full-frontal nudity for himself into the script). Though the basic trajectory of the story is fairly ho-hum, it injects even its well-worn plot devices with a new vibrancy, and has a unique twist to add to many of them.
Its obvious from the very beginning that Forgetting Sarah Marshall won't be content with stock characters, but their depth and realism are still surprising. Consider a scene where one of the characters learns of some quasi-infidelity. Even though their reason for being upset is emotional, they're not content with vague summaries. They demand a specific, clinical account of what took place. This might not be poetic or dramatic in a manner befitting most films, but it's the way real people behave.
Like every film created by Apatow and the rest of his comedy cartel, Forgetting Sarah Marshall is longer than most comparable films. It clocks in at just under two hours, but it won't waste your time.
There are a number of hysterical supporting performances that I'd characterize as "scene-stealing," but the fact is that every scene's like that, and sometimes two or more of them all steal it at the same time. Aside from the aforementioned Russell Brand, Jonah Hall plays a creepily obsessed fan, and Paul Rudd plays a burnt out surf instructor.
Films like this may be an aberration. The mindless gross-out comedies, content with simply eliciting any reaction, may yet win out. But for now, moviegoers still have films like this, which understand that comedy is funnier when you care.
Anyone reading this review is surely familiar with the setup, which is relatively straightforward: Peter Bretter (Jason Segal, who also wrote the film) is a composer for a cliché TV crime procedural called "Crime Scene." It stars Sarah Marshall, his girlfriend of five years, and Billy Baldwin (who gets to deliver such lines as "I think it's gonna be hard for her to reenter the pageant...without a face").
A few minutes into the film, Sarah breaks up with Peter while he's coming out of the shower, and he drops his towel in shock, revealing his shame in more ways than one. He tries to console himself by sleeping around, but he does it for all the wrong reasons and slinks further into depression. Eventually, his half-brother Brian (Saturday Night Live's Bill Hader) intervenes, and tells him he has to get away. Peter decides to go to Hawaii, largely because Sarah had suggested it while they were still together.
Of course, he soon learns that Sarah's there, too, and she's not alone. Accompanying her is British pop star stereotype Aldous Snow (Russell Brand), who is so unapologetically debaucherous that he makes Keith Richards look like a prude. This obviously interferes with Peter's grieving process, but he decides to stick it out.
Segal's screenplay hits the "Wizard of Oz" trifecta here in that it has a brain (it's consistently witty), a heart (Segal's character is a truly sympathetic everyman), and courage (he was brave enough to write full-frontal nudity for himself into the script). Though the basic trajectory of the story is fairly ho-hum, it injects even its well-worn plot devices with a new vibrancy, and has a unique twist to add to many of them.
Its obvious from the very beginning that Forgetting Sarah Marshall won't be content with stock characters, but their depth and realism are still surprising. Consider a scene where one of the characters learns of some quasi-infidelity. Even though their reason for being upset is emotional, they're not content with vague summaries. They demand a specific, clinical account of what took place. This might not be poetic or dramatic in a manner befitting most films, but it's the way real people behave.
Like every film created by Apatow and the rest of his comedy cartel, Forgetting Sarah Marshall is longer than most comparable films. It clocks in at just under two hours, but it won't waste your time.
There are a number of hysterical supporting performances that I'd characterize as "scene-stealing," but the fact is that every scene's like that, and sometimes two or more of them all steal it at the same time. Aside from the aforementioned Russell Brand, Jonah Hall plays a creepily obsessed fan, and Paul Rudd plays a burnt out surf instructor.
Films like this may be an aberration. The mindless gross-out comedies, content with simply eliciting any reaction, may yet win out. But for now, moviegoers still have films like this, which understand that comedy is funnier when you care.