Second
Acts A
gentler, funnier Judd Apatow by
Jason Blair
FUNNY
PEOPLE: Written and directed by Judd Apatow. Cinematography, Janusz
Kaminski. Music, Michael Andrews and Jason Schwartzman. Starring
Adam Sandler, Seth Rogen, Leslie Mann, Eric Bana, Johah Hill and
Jason Schwartzman. Universal Pictures, 2009. R. 146 minutes.
Adam
Sandler, Eric Bana and Seth Rogen in Funny People
“Comedy is for funny people,” snarls George (Adam Sandler) toward
the end of Funny People. Apparently it’s for miserable types,
too, since George uses the line to insult his assistant Ira (Seth
Rogen), himself a budding comedian and George’s primary joke writer.
As a standup comic turned movie star, George enjoys Seinfeld-like
recognizability in Funny People, but the character is at
least partially based upon Adam Sandler himself. Like Sandler, George
traded in his edgy material early, opting instead for big payouts
for increasingly ridiculous material. Since Funny People
is rich in its backstory, we get occasional glimpses into George’s
back catalog — Merman, Dog’s Best Friend, Sayonara Charlie
— which bear a passing resemblance to actual Sandler films like
Little Nicky and Mr. Deeds. It’s hard to imagine,
then, that writer/director Judd Apatow and Sandler weren’t in on
the joke. That Sandler trusted Apatow with such close-to-home material
is one thing; that both contribute the best work of their careers
is something to celebrate.
Funny People opens to a series of home videos, shot by Apatow
in 1991, of Sandler making prank calls in his best old lady voice.
(Apatow and Sandler, young and skinny, were roommates at the time.)
Within moments, Sandler’s George is diagnosed with a rare form of
leukemia. Thus Funny People, in a few seconds, shuttles us
light years away from Knocked Up and the The 40-Year-Old
Virgin, establishing a tone and style not seen since perhaps
Terms of Endearment: The comedy that gives you chills. Unwilling
to reveal the news of his disease, George hires Ira to be his assistant,
joke writer and emotional punching bag. Every time Ira wants to
think they’re becoming friends, George coldly reminds him they aren’t.
Instead they co-exist peacefully and often hilariously while taking
to the comedy circuit for a final lap of standup performances. Then,
just as George reveals his condition, he goes into remission. Wouldn’t
you know, life turns out to be much harder than death. George’s
reaction, “What the fuck do we do now?”, is typically saucy and
jaded. The answer is to go after the girl who got away, a beaming
ex-girlfriend named Laura (Leslie Mann).
Poignant without ever being manip-ulative, densely referential
with numerous classic lines, Funny People is a once-in-a-decade
comedy, a unique product of several talents coming into contact
with the right material at the right time. Apatow, who wrote the
script, clearly lived with these characters for some time — he wrote
the screenplay for Sandler and Rogen, reportedly — which gives the
film an easygoing, natural feel. The improvised parts feel
improvised. Like life, all the big moments in Funny People
happen offscreen; the film is about how we sort out the little moments
in between. The first person George speaks to after learning he’s
no longer sick is his maid. She reacts by telling him she found
his lost pants. Life goes on, and George is nowhere near ready for
it. It’s one thing, as George says, to get a glimpse of “something
people only see once.” It’s another to know what to do with it.
Funny People has more cameos than Short Cuts, but
they reinforce the tight-knit standup community in L.A. Sarah Silverman
shines; Ray Romano and Eminem have, of all things, a shout down.
This is a big film in its ideas and themes, so the length is a problem;
there are too many montages, too close together, of George trying
to pull himself through. The film stalls badly once George and Ira
visit Laura, now married, in her home — they spend 45 film minutes
there, the equivalent of six weeks in the real world. Still, Funny
People remains a sweetly exuberant film, a reminder of what
comedies are still capable of in the age of radically lowered expections.