‘Friendship': Tim Robinson and Paul Rudd poke fun at men who bond

Washington Post

15-05-2025

Tim Robinson, who has become a cult comedic star with his show 'I Think You Should Leave,' possesses the hulking, humorously awkward physicality of a socially inappropriate goofball who's just big enough to be dangerous. In 'Friendship,' his breakout feature turn, Robinson plays Craig Waterman, a good-natured lummox living in a dreary Nowheresville called Clovis, USA — which could easily be a stand-in for suburban Detroit, where Robinson grew up. Craig works for a generic tech company called Universal Digital Innovations, where they create addictive apps for corporations and political candidates.
Craig lives in his own hyper-screened, self-satisfied world, even when he's in the cramped split-level house he shares with Tami (Kate Mara), a recent cancer survivor who runs a flower-arranging business out of their dining room, and their teenage son Stevie (Jack Dylan Grazer). Tami worries about her disease recurring and whether she'll ever orgasm again; at a cancer support group, Craig blithely shares that 'everything is awesome' and that he's 'orgasming just fine.'
In other words, Craig exists in a goldfish bowl brimming with blissful oblivion: That's not privilege or entitlement he's swimming in, it's just water. But Craig's complacency will get a considerable sloshing when he meets Austin (Paul Rudd), who has just moved in down the street. Taking a page from the observational humor of the late Lynn Shelton, with nods toward the Apatovian School of Modern Male Anxiety and the cringe comedy of Larry David, 'Friendship' chronicles the morphology of a middle-aged man crush, from its besotted onset of beers, boxing and a brotastic version of 'My Boo' to its ignominious flameout. There's a thin line between the campy antics of 'I Love You, Man' and the far darker malignancy at the heart of 'The Cable Guy': 'Friendship' lives in that liminal space, mining its queasiest, quirkiest nuances for absurdist laughs and less comfortable squirms.
Written and directed by Andrew DeYoung, making his feature debut, 'Friendship' possesses the ungainly pacing and structure of one of Robinson's sketches extended beyond its comfort level: When a character takes a (very funny) hallucinogenic trip, the set piece feels of a piece with the choppy dream logic of a movie in which time and space are flattened, and characters pop up out of nowhere. (I'm still not sure the audience was properly introduced to Austin's wife, played by Meredith Garretson in a thankless role.) For every scene that feels daring and boldly spontaneous, another feels on-the-nose or falls oddly flat.
Rudd brings his reliable commit-to-the-bit resolve to a role for which he's supremely well-suited, and he brings his own history: It turns out that Austin is a local TV weatherman, giving 'Friendship' the vibe of 'Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy' fanfic. (Which, when you think about it, isn't such a bad idea.) DeYoung has enlisted an able supporting cast to provide services as foils for Craig's more bizarre behavioral doglegs. But 'Friendship' is clearly intended as a showcase for Robinson, whose manic focus and imposing stature — made all the more hegemonic by an enormous parka — lend him an air of lumbering, untethered menace: This dad bod can been weaponized. His everyman with an edge keeps the audience continually guessing. Is Craig creepy or just refreshingly unfiltered? Are we rooting for him or mentally taking out a restraining order? Is this a message from the skeptical outer reaches of the manosphere? Or a cry for help from its loneliest inner craw?
It's just that constant sense of instability that 'Friendship' is going for; in the meantime, it offers a modestly sharp-eyed critique of the materialist excesses and aspirational deceits of 21st-century American life. To their credit, Robinson and DeYoung know their limits. They don't overreach or stay past their welcome, and they stick the landing with unexpected finesse. 'Friendship' is primarily a movie for Robinson's hardcore fans, but, for the Tim-curious, it serves as an amusing — if haphazard and uneven — introduction to his distinctive sensibility. If you like your mortification with a side of unassuming Midwestern brio, you just might have a friend in Clovis, USA.
R. At AMC Georgetown 14, Alamo Drafthouse Cinema DC Bryant Street and Angelika Film Center Mosaic. Contains profanity and some drug content. 101 minutes.