Adam Sandler and Seth Rogen in "Funny People." (Universal)
Funny People
Maybe we’re due, every generation or so, for a movie that demands that we think differently about the people who make us laugh. In 1988 there was Punchline, with Tom Hanks taking what at the time was considered a very different role as an outwardly gifted stand-up comedian who in real life was troubled and dark and moody. Now there’s Funny People, a dramatically overlong and painstakingly unfunny look at the life of two comics at opposing ends of career success. On top of the heap is George Simmons (Adam Sandler), a phenomenally successful actor/comedian who has paid his dues both professionally and personally: he lives in fabulous digs and spends money like it’s water, but his true love left him years ago due to his unrelenting infidelity, and he’s now solitary and glum. On the other hand, at least he’s not Ira Wright (Seth Rogen), who subsidizes his forays into unpaid stand-up comedy gigs by working at a local deli counter, and who sleeps on the couch of a more successful friend (Jason Schwartzman) and jabs competitively at another pal (Jonah Hill) who is climbing the ladder faster than he is.
The movie needs George and Ira (hey, like the Gershwins!) to meet, and so one night Ira’s act at a local comedy club is postponed by the unexpected appearance of George, looking for a few minutes of stage time. Ira and the audience are thrilled, but no one expects Simmons to come out with a somber, sad-clown routine; of course, they don’t know that George has just been handed a diagnosis of terminal cancer. With nothing but work to keep his mind off his troubles, George dives back into comedy, and spontaneously hires stagemate Ira to be his personal assistant and write jokes for him.
If you haven’t figured this out yet, let me make it clear that Funny People is not about people who are funny; it’s about people who work at being funny, and a Grand Canyon-sized chasm separates those two types. The film spends a good deal of time exploring just how Ira writes jokes for Simmons and himself, and for good measure, gives George more than a few scenes of incisive criticism about Ira’s work (and, by extension, stand-up comedy in general). In reminding us that comedy is hard work, it depicts comedians as obsessive, neurotic types who are more likely to measure their success in terms of applause more than money. What it doesn’t do – not much, at least – is make us laugh; and while that comedy-free zone may be understandable given the film’s obvious intentions, it makes the movie easier to appreciate than to enjoy. (Imagine the recently released Julie & Julia, for instance, if Nora Ephron had her characters make all that delicious food without eating or enjoying any of it themselves.)
As Ira, Rogen breaks no new ground; he showed more depth in last spring’s Observe and Report, along with a stronger inclination away from the safe lovable-lummox territory he’s carved out for himself over the past few years. Sandler, on the other hand, digs deeply into another one of those rare roles that gives him a chance to be something other than a post-adolescent clown. His core Big Daddy fan base likely won’t know what to do with this, but that’s their problem.
Funny People is written and directed by Judd Apatow, who has recently emerged as something of a comedy brand name despite the fact that the only three movies he’s made all by himself (The 40-Year Old Virgin, Knocked Up and this) have each been less funny than its predecessor. In fact, this new film feel much more in line with the emotionally ambitious works of James L. Brooks (Broadcast News, Terms of Endearment) than with anything you’d expect Rogen or Sandler’s names to be attached to. (Brooks and Sandler have worked together once, on the oddball 2003 drama Spanglish.) Trouble is, Brooks toiled as a comedy writer for decades before his films became organically mature and balanced; Apatow seems inclined to jump ahead with a Serious Movie before his skills have progressed to the point where that’s possible. His latest isn’t a bad movie, exactly, but it’s awkward and terribly paced (130 minutes never felt this long). Instead of Funny People, you might wish Apatow had just made Funny Movie.
Erich Van Dussen is managing editor of Rochester Film Journal. Contact him at info@rochesterfilm.com.

