Is Judd Apatow a great director? No—not yet, anyway—but it’s becoming increasingly clear that he wants to be. His first two movies, The 40-Year-Old Virgin and Knocked Up, introduced a surprisingly clear and original voice to the world of raunchy, R-rated comedy. His third, Funny People, is something else entirely: It’s nothing if not a play to win more respect as a filmmaker, something that’s seen in its darker, more mature themes; its complex, multi-faceted plotline; and its epic run time. Indeed, at two and a half hours, Funny People might as well be the Lawrence of Arabia of summer comedies, a comparison that’s all the more apt given the movie’s two clear, distinct acts.
The ambition is hard to deny, and it’s made vivid when you consider Funny People in light of other, similar-minded summer comedies. This movie is many things, but it is not typical. For one thing, it is a comedy about very dark things—though that’s not quite the same thing as calling it a dark comedy. Mere minutes into the movie, we learn that its protagonist, stand-up comedian turned big-time movie star George Simmons (Adam Sandler, playing a fictionalized version of himself) has a rare blood disease, and probably very little time left to live. Simmons’ sprawling L.A. mansion is filled with fast cars, award statuettes, and posters from all his blockbuster movies, but terminal illness throws everything into perspective. He embarks upon a therapeutic standup tour where he delivers uncomfortable and bleak jokes about death—which leaves his audience, as well as we in the theater, more than a little unsettled. Yet, despite a few genuinely disturbing moments, Funny People is not a black or difficult-to-watch film: Apatow’s signature style of “cheerful vulgarity” runs through it, counteracting the weighty themes.
It’s also a comedy about comedy, and chief among its virtues is the way it invites us into the world of the comedian and lets us see it from a new angle. At one of his gigs, Simmons meets a struggling young comedian named Ira Wright (Seth Rogen in one of his best roles to date). Simmons hires Wright as his personal assistant and soon confides in him about his life-threatening illness. Ira shares the news only with his two roommates, two up-and-coming comedians played by Jonah Hill and Jason Schwartzman. Through the eyes of these four men, Apatow explores various ideas about how comedy works, and how the experiences of the comedians fuels their humor—not entirely unlike the way early Seinfeld operated.
And it is, on some level, a comedy about Judd Apatow as well. All of his films feel somewhat personal—particularly since he always makes room for his two daughters and his wife, Leslie Mann, who stars in Funny People‘s second act as George’s estranged ex-girlfriend—but this one bears his voice most distinctly, as it finds him wrestling with life-and-death issues unflinchingly. And yet, he considers these issues the way a comedian would—buffered by plenty of casual vulgarity, sex jokes, and foul-mouthed silliness.
So what, in the end, is this movie? Many things, but above all, a sprawling mess of ambition. For as intriguing as Apatow’s mix of humanity and vulgarity can be, Funny People is defined, first and foremost, by its form more than its content. Its reflections on death are not particularly insightful or interesting; the way in which it approaches death from the perspective of a raunchy comedian is. That humor can help us understand pain and death is a worthwhile observation, but besides that? The film has no theology to speak of, and its philosophizing doesn’t go very far beyond George realizing, in the face of death, that his fast cars and loose women aren’t enough to make him happy—and even that realization turns out to be somewhat wishy-washy. That Apatow—considered by many to be a great, albeit subversive, moralizer—to look death squarely in the eye is noble; that he finds little to say about it, a bit disappointing.
Especially given just how long he takes with this film. One must give Apatow major kudos for his bravery and his vision, in creating an R-rated summer comedy that’s of such epic length, but Funny People is bloated well beyond the point of coherence—bloated with mostly great ideas, to be sure, but bloated nevertheless. The first act is fine, but, midway through the film, the subject of death and George’s illness itself fade into the background as the movie takes a bizarre twist, leading George and Ira to the home of now-married Laura (that’s Mann) and her husband Clark (Eric Bana). Here, the movie becomes something else altogether—not a film about death, but about family and infidelity and responsibility. In its tone, its content, and its plot, it’s a major, disjointed connection that makes Funny People feel not like one movie in two parts, but like two movies spliced together. Characters begin to behave irrationally and the film loses all focus, as though Apatow starts running on fumes in the final 45 minutes. Even loveable Sandler takes a turn into genuinely unlikable territory as his George reveals his heart of darkness.
Less and less of the movie works the more it goes on, and yet it remains difficult to dislike it. Perhaps it’s because Funny People feels so much like Apatow’s growing pains: Clearly, he’s reaching for something bigger, more original, more substantive, more profound than what he’s done before, and even if it ends up being a bloated mess, at least he’s trying. Its darkness and its vulgarity make it, at times, hard to love; but its ambition and its moments of soul-searching render it something very genuine, and difficult not to, at the very least, admire.
Talk About It
Discussion starters- In facing his illness, does George learn anything about himself? Do you think his character changes in any way?
- Do you think Ira is a good friend to George? Why or why not?
- How would you describe the behavior of George in the film’s second act? Of Laura? Of Ira? Who, if anyone, is in the right? Is the right thing done in the end?
The Family Corner
For parents to considerFunny People is rated R for language and sexual humor throughout, and for sexual content. If you’ve ever seen a Judd Apatow movie, you know what to expect: Vulgar jokes and swear words are used very casually, and there are two very brief sex scenes, one with nudity. This one’s very raunchy, and certainly not intended for children.
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