Friendship

This indie comedy from A24 can sometimes feel a bit uneven, but its deadpan and blunt humor that also provides more thoughtful and subtextual commentary on male friendships under the surface makes it engaging and worth watching. The film focuses on Craig (Tim Robinson,) a marketing executive and father who befriends his neighbor Austin (Paul Rudd,) who is a weatherman.

Like many "slice of life" independent films, "Friendship" doesn't have a clear and thorough plot as its narrative backbone. Yet the writing is sharp and clever enough, and the two leads interesting enough that things still mostly work pretty well. The humor is able to balance more straightforward comedy with more dark and offbeat humor pretty well, particularly by showing that Craig's desire for connection is well-intentioned, but also risky. At 97 minutes, the film is pretty well-paced and never feels too long or too short. It does a good job at keeping the viewer engaged throughout. While the character development of Craig and Austin is not exceptional or truly unique, it is thorough and well-written enough to keep the viewer interested and justify the film progressing in the ways that it does. The film's humor isn't always consistently funny, but when it works (particularly in the first 45 minutes,) it really works. What holds the film back from being truly great is the lack of a directly emotional payoff and narrative stakes. In particular, there could have been a more compelling conclusion. That said, this is still a worthwhile dark comedy. Recommended. 7.5/10.

On the one hand, it's got moments of genuine hilarity and ingenuity. Rare these days in movie theaters - it seems only stand-up has any guts and originality. I laughed hard in places and so did the first-weekend LA crowd. On the other hand, the story is without much momentum and lacks a sense of inevitability. Feels random and without clear purpose/meaning. As though the whole thing were a series of sketches strung together with no driving thematic goal. Another way of putting it is that it does not get more interesting as it goes. But the acting and casting is superb. Very well directed. Bravo!

When it comes to the topic of the male psyche and what inherently makes us male, the usual trope falls into the typical realm of heroism, stoicism and aggression. You can't get that woman you like unless you are willing to take on an army and exhibit confidence in the moment. Trouble is, the so-called man that needs that confidence is played by men like Henry Cavil or Ryan Gosling, not some every day run of the mill man.

Much like another film that tackled the male psyche that came out last year, that being A Different Man, Friendship tackles another side of the equation. While A Different Man dealt with identity and accepting your true self, Friendship is a bizarre comedy tackling why it is so hard to make friends. Tim Robinson plays Craig Waterman, a lonely, somewhat self centered man who has no filter and extremely poor social skills. He lacks emotional maturity and also self awareness about his grating personality. It's hard to imagine how he got married and stayed so for 16 years, but that is besides the point. We get a sense that Craig's schtick has grown tired as his wife is visibly having an emotional affair with an old ex and his son is becoming more and more distant. His lack of self awareness is meant to illustrate his loneliness is not because of awkwardness or because of social anxiety, but because his personality is completely devoid of modern mores. The good thing is the film doesn't blame this attitude due to a condition or due to past trauma, we are to assume he has always been this way. Then he meets Austin, played with usual charm by Paul Rudd.

In a lot of ways, Austin is the ideal man when we first meet him. Self assured, smooth and free. Unlike the corporatized Craig, he introduces a new world to Craig filled with friendship, connection and emotional availability. Trouble is, Craig is ill prepared to morph into this world of friendship. His mental state declines, all the while seeing how a man should deal with the pressures society puts on some men. While Austin struggles at first with his new change in life, he ultimately evens out and finds a way to deal with his promotion at work... like an actualized and emotional mature man should act. Craig on the other hand descends into an immature boy, seeking out creature comforts and trying to recapture an older version of himself rather than dealing with a new and evolving situation.

The final act is where much of Craig's disintegration occurs. He even states men shouldn't even have friends to begin with. Of course, this all plays out in a deeply sad string of events for Craig, leading to a shocking finale.

Now, I don't consider this an all encompassing foray into the world or men and how to build friendships, but it certainly is more realistic than another Rudd vehicle like I Love You Man. While much of society dismisses the struggles many men endure, the toughest has to be with male bonding. There is a reason why the alt-right is rife with angry men and some of the worst opinions are held by men. The lack of emotional maturity has made it easy to recruit these types, giving them a support mechanism that becomes "habit forming." Becoming a part of a team and then getting kicked off that team can be gut wrenching to many, especially if you don't have another "team" to jump into. And then you have an example like Craig Waterman, a man with no capability of reading a room and has most likely been hanging on by a thread for years. While I'm a completely different person, I feel his loneliness. Being an atheist tree hugging vegan in a small right wing town that loves hunting and steak, I've been something of a prisoner of my own doing. It's not that I really can't make friends, but who is going to relate to me when I tell a gun loving, fly fishing conservative that I don't eat steak due to an ethical philosophy I adopted years before. How does a man that loves Art, film and philosophy relate to people who aren't as educated on these subjects without coming off as a massive elitist? It would probably be like the moment Austin tells Craig he doesn't want to be friends after a rather awkward and unsettling moment occurs between them.

While Craig is definitely a man forged by his own experiences, you still feel bad for him. It's clear he doesn't fit anywhere in the world, and hence his outbursts become more and more outrageous as he finally understands this. But that is the quandary. Men have been taught individualism so much that it's hard to accept the idea that we are not wrong in our thoughts and we should not adjust our ideals to fit. Even I struggle with that, knowing there are few options for me at any restaurant or public eatery and it's best to just stay at home and make some quinoa and beans. I don't wanna be that guy at the restaurant table that has to ask a million questions about the food prep. Just give me the drink menu and a cheeseless and dressing less side salad. It's even affected my dating life, especially since I am nowhere near a large selection of my own kind and many have predisposed assumptions about me. So yes, in a lot of ways I empathize with Craig, though our own prisons are of different designs. There is also a lot of other things in the film that only men will really get, like our lack of depth in our conversations and the cruelty we may play on outsiders. But that is the male condition unfortunately, and too many of us are stuck on that hamster wheel just trying to deal with a society that continues to be aloof to our own unique problems.

We finally got around to watching Friendship, a film we had sitting in our watchlist for a while, and... wow. We went in blind, only knowing the title-and what we got was a wild mix of laugh-out-loud absurdity and deeply uncomfortable emotional breakdowns. It's not your usual buddy comedy. This one's darker, messier, and much more personal.

Winny, always the first to catch emotional undercurrents, couldn't stop talking about how painfully real the main character's unraveling felt. He saw someone falling apart under pressure, stress, and years of not being understood-someone not evil, just painfully out of step with the world. Willow leaned in with a bit more logic, pointing out how a lot of the awkward or "cringe" moments felt more like defense mechanisms than malice. According to him, the character was a man trying to hold it together while everything around him changed.

Mimikyu brought both heart and sharpness to the convo-seeing the character as someone both tragic and responsible for his mess. The film's emotional whiplash between laughter and sadness hit her hardest. Amy, true to form, didn't let anything slide. She picked up on how the main character bulldozed past boundaries and social cues, making others uncomfortable without realizing it-or maybe not caring. Tails, of course, gave us the psychological breakdown, suggesting vulnerable narcissism as the root of the meltdown, while Sweet quietly pointed out how much the partner's emotional growth left the main character completely lost, stuck in the version of himself that no longer worked.

And then there's that moment-"She's in the sewer." Hard cut to a dog being pulled up a wall. We all lost it. The absurdity, the timing, the sudden break in tone-it was pure comedy gold in a movie filled with creeping emotional dread.

In the end, Friendship had us laughing, disturbed, reflective, and more than a little heartbroken. It's not an easy film to watch, but it hits a nerve in a way few comedies dare. 8/10 from all of us.

I imagine some people have a lot of trouble explaining Tim Robinson. I think I can. He is the new champion of anti-comedy. Anti-comedy is almost a performance art unto itself and would suggest a uniquely higher level of understanding of what is funny and what is not, and then taking what is not funny and making it funny. It feels almost accidental, but it isn't. The original master was Andy Kaufman, and since his untimely death in 1984, he's had many unsuccessful imitators. We very nearly had a second-coming in Tom Green, until he took things completely over the line with Freddy Got Fingered, a film that strived to be a surrealist masterpiece and ended up being the Pink Flamingos of the 21st century. But now, in 2025, we have Tim Robinson and I think he's just about mastered this difficult technique. Perhaps by sheer virtue of the fact that he looks supremely uncomfortable at all times. He's the human embodiment of a caged rat being poked incessantly with a stick. There's a level of fear and confusion, mixed with a hair-triggered rage that could ignite at any moment. He looks and behaves like the most maladjusted human on earth. Then you take that person and make him a full-fledged comedian. Perhaps this is part of his comedic routine, but whatever it is, he's got that Kaufman "It" factor that's needed.

Enter, Friendship. If ever you needed to know what a Tim Robinson movie would be like, this is what it is. Some would say it's a 90-minute I Think You Should Leave skit, and you'd very much be right. This is a dark comedy about why grown men shouldn't have bromances. That said, it's 97 minutes of exactly how far Tim Robinson can take that premise. The sky isn't even the limit here. Robinson explores obsession and insecurity through the eyes of a man who has zero control over his impulsive thoughts. The rest of the cast looks on in terror, especially Paul Rudd, who approaches the role similarly to how he did in I Love You, Man. But a classic Judd Apatow-universe comedy this isn't. This is Tim Robinson's unhinged world and we are all held hostage.

I haven't laughed this hard in a movie theater in a decade. Studio comedies are dead. Comedy movies, in general, have dried up worse than the Mojave Desert. A24, I can attest, might be about to change that, and they have the right man to do it. If we could get a Tim Robinson comedy movie once a year, I'd be very happy.