Okay, let me get on record here: Funny People was a terrible movie. It wasn’t funny, well written, well edited, compelling, interesting, or even accurate. It was a face clawing pile of dog shit run through a projector at 24 pieces of shit per second.
Why? Well, let me break this movie down scene-by-scene. The movie starts with a mediocre actor portraying a mediocre comic, he makes a dick joke, followed by an array of blowjob dick jokes. Then Billy Madison shows up and makes some dick jokes but apparently his anal blowjob jokes are worth $300 million. Then Judd Apatow himself shits into the camera and an array of celebrity cameos plops out, ending with Eminem rap battling Ray Romano (Apatow must have eaten a greasy gyro directly before this scene). Then Happy Gilmore doesn’t die but he punches some soccer player in the face and then everyone goes to a Myspace party but not the Waterboy because he would rather text message his frat bro than cry when some girl sang a song.
I’m sorry. I know that barrage of nonsense is juvenile and without substance, but hey, I AM reviewing an Apatow “film”! I really don’t know how to convey my point without sounding like one of these “Apatow bashers” (who, some-fucking-how, comprise the MINORITY). The movie was bad. The jokes were lazy and boring. The stand up, ditto. The “emotional content” of the movie was in fact its biggest joke. The fact that we are to buy into this story and treat it seriously and invest ourselves is insane.
Okay, so he’s an asshole and he gets a death sentence. I’m in. Let’s see what happens. He’s a comedian? Me too, this could be interesting! But to play the card of “lost love” from over a decade ago, have her instantly weep in his arms and begin a taboo affair of rekindling is merely a foreshadowing of the contrivances and the ridiculously clunky plot turns to follow. Did he REALLY get into a fist fight on the lawn with the dude married to the girl he likes? You want to show his darker, obsessive side? How about he doesn’t fuck the girl he’s chasing? Because that’s what fucking happens! She doesn’t cry in your arms and invite you to her house with her (and the director’s) children to play ear licking games with the family dog. She ignores you and tells you you are a mess and you are forced to live with that reality as well as the fact that you agree with her. Even in your most pitiable moment staring death in the face, the girl you supposedly love tells you to fuck off. What happens to George then? Your friends are almost no help because they can not fix what is broken inside you. Where’s that story? Where is this guy’s history? What happened to make him this way? Fame? Nope. He was broken before.
Look, I get it. Stand up comics are not the fun, playful characters they are on stage. For the most part, they are a mess. I have met more depressed alcoholics with bi-polar tendencies, repressed sexual appetites, mother/father issues, guilt, regret, Napoleon complexes, rage, and misplaced frustration in the Chicago comedy scene than I have my entire life prior. We’re a fucking mess of a community, starting from inside each individual. But we are this way ORGANICALLY (a word Apatow has probably only used to refer to his tomatoes). We also don’t have to fight to look “disappointed” or “hurt” (is the Rogen allusion bright enough?).
The movie uses the notion of fame and superstardom to place the movie in a setting that the audience can simply not identify with. We are supposed to take for granted the reality painted by Apatow’s brush. But in doing this, Apatow has failed to give credence to the fundamental humanity that remains in the face of money and fame, even though that seems to be part of his MO.
Amidst the complete inaccuracies of his depiction of LIFE, Apatow fails on his supposed bread and butter: the stand up comedy scene. The “comedy scene” depicted in the movie looks like some weird Robert Zemeckis version of what comedians from the 80s imagined the comedy scene would look like in 2009.
I will give credit: Apatow’s movies tend to have decent arcs and ideas. But the implementation and execution are embarrassing. It’s so far removed from the reality he is supposedly trying to boldly demonstrate, it literally offends me as both a comedian and a human being to watch this movie.
Anyway, this subject tires and bores me. I can’t do this any longer, I have to go -- Chris Rock is texting me. He wants me to write his new hour of material and open 6 shows in Africa.
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