Movie review: Judd Apatow’s ‘Trainwreck’ is a very heartfelt and funny showcase for writer/star Amy Schumer, were it not so often cluttered with an ongoing need to prattle on longer than it should.
Judd Apatow’s a comedy conundrum. He rightfully revalorized R-rated comedy as audiences know it today, as he led the way for many of our biggest comedy heavy-hitters to get their deserved comedy recognition. Yet his style of comedy is often listless to the point of exasperation. He stuffs his films with jokes and asides to their breaking point, where the once effortlessly funny experience becomes a full-on workout in attention sustainability.
The filmmaker’s latest directorial effort, Trainwreck, falls somewhere between his sensational and tedious extremes. The comedy is fresh and breezy in ways these movies haven’t been in years. It’s also filled with stinging, memorable one-liners and bountiful heart to boot. With this in mind, however, the ongoing irritation Apatow creates in how tedious his newest film becomes makes these mixed emotions all the more punctuating.
The first movie Apatow directed but didn’t also write, Amy Schumer pens and stars in Trainwreck as Amy Townsend, a loose woman who enjoys her fair share of alcohol, weed and one-night-stands in New York City. On the verge of emotional recluse, her life takes an unusually stable turn when she’s assigned to write an article on sports physician Dr. Aaron Conners (Bill Hader). Her subject’s the kind of guy who has sports superstars like LeBron James — who stars as himself — for BFFs, yet can’t find a stable girlfriend in six years time.
This polar opposite personality takes a sterling affect on Amy’s personality. As the journalist compromises some integrity to form a sexual kinship with her focal piece, Aaron continues to live up to his straight-laced persona, while our lead reluctantly begins to move into maturity. Through their bond, Amy begins to realize what she wants in herself, just at the point when her life and career changes drastically.
Looked purely as a showcase for Schumer, Trainwreck succeeds. The comedian coasts with a carefree charm, and while Amy, the character, at first seems merely an aggravation of Amy, the on-stage persona, the actress proves her weight as Apatow’s film progresses into dramatic territory. She also brings in a charming and unusually assured first screenplay.
Her writing highlights her comedic strengths, produces a dependably on-going narrative and also leaves room for her comedic peers to shine. While Apatow almost certainly had to give her notes and punch-ups before production, Schumer’s voice is still dependably and readily found. This is very much Schumer’s movie, and she owns it completely.
Moreover, Trainwreck finally sees Apatow address the tough criticism he’s received of late. He avoids casting clichés — as his wife Leslie Mann, their kids Maude and Iris Apatow, or the likes of Seth Rogen, Jonah Hill or Jason Segel are nowhere to be found — and his film’s tone is more focused than anything he’s directed in years. There aren’t as many useless sequences or countless boner gags, and he brings a youthful spontaneity back which he lost dramatizing middle-age angst in Funny People and This is 40.
In short, this is the most stripped down Apatow’s been in years, and what’s most surprising about Trainwreck is how straightforward it is as a romantic comedy. The film is unabashedly, and effectively, sentimental, and — like Apatow’s best films — is also never afraid to let the emotions of the moment dictate the rhythm. Plus the decision to shoot on film gives this feature a nostalgic charm. It’s reminiscent of a time when Nora Ephron and Woody Allen dominated the scene, and cinematographer Jody Lee Lipes’ downplayed but respectfully handled work accomplishes this effectively.
However, as Trainwreck becomes determined to stay true to the convictions of traditional rom-coms, it all-too-wholeheartedly pigeonholes itself to the comedy structures of this genre. Ironically, for what feels like such a progressive film for the filmmaker, Apatow’s fifth directorial effort can’t shake the restraints of his narrative conventions. He matures and sometimes restrains himself from his typical tendencies, yet, in doing so, produces an all-too-typical comedy narrative without much pulp to differentiate or stand out from films past.
It’s very similar to the Apatow-produced, R-rated rom-com Forgetting Sarah Marshall, which also was written by its lead star, Segel. Both films have sincere emotions, a bouncy cast and location backdrops that compliment their pictures but do not distract. But the Segel-written film had a pulse and a desire to stay true to the genre’s charm that changes choice moments to create something fresh and lively with traditional nuance to spare. Trainwreck, for all its funny moments and cutesy segments, doesn’t accomplish the same feat, and stays satisfied by how plainly traditional it remains.
Also, unlike Forgetting Sarah Marshall, pacing is not Trainwreck’s strong suit. Nearly every scene could use an edit or trim, and it feels more tiresome than any comedy should be. There’s surely a crackerjack comedy here on the same level of the aforementioned Segel-written comedy. If only Apatow could restraint himself from his ever-incessant tendencies.
For every laugh, there’s a groan or stone-faced response to be found. This would seem more insulting were the comedy not spitballing jokes as almost every minute. It’s a hit-and-miss endeavor to be sure, and as such doesn’t fall far from the tree of Apatow’s last handful of productions. It does prove, though, the filmmaker is heading in the right creative direction in some choice ways.
What really helps save Apatow’s movie is his fantastic assortment of supporting characters and surprise cameos. In terms of comedy, Mike Birbiglia, Tilda Swinton and, believe it or not, James are the highlights. Even John Cena proves himself a dependable comedic force here, and those words seem surreal to type. An appearance from a certain ‘80s heartthrob is one of the most unusual yet rewarding seen in a comedy in some time, and a recurring appearance from a fantasy boy sensation always leaves a great impression.
Dramatically, however, Brie Larson gives an extremely rich performance as Amy’s settled-down sister Kim. The actresses compliment each other well, and give a believable relationship that makes their emotional journeys justified. Also, their on-screen father Gordon proves just how underrated an actor Colin Quinn can be. He’s fiercely funny, but gives a sterling pounce to his character that resonates more than it did on the page, most likely.
Much like the Apatow-produced, female-lead Bridesmaids, Trainwreck feels like a rough cut of a great comedy buried in a pretty good-to-good one. The leads are charming, the cast is game, the affections are earned and the wit is easy to find. And yet, it’s never as continuously joyful or immensely entertaining as it should very well be. It’s still a very fun film, with lots to recommend. But let’s put it like this: it may not live up to its title, but this railcar sure could stop and clear its engine’s outpouring smoke before going full speed ahead.
Rating: 3/5 stars
@thewillofash
