Geekshow

Nick Reviews Funny People!

If Judd Apatow has one flaw, it’s that he cares too much.

The other day I was reading this Time Magazine article profiling Apatow. In it, the writer, Joel Stein, painted Apatow has a sensitive, awkward and sometimes obsessive filmmaker, comedian and artist; the kind of guy that plays through track after on his iPod, searching for the perfect third song to play during the closing credits of his latest film, Funny People. Yes, the third song. Meaning, by the time it begins to play, the only people still in the theatre will either be cleaning the aisles or sleeping. But there he was anyway, playing song after song. There’s something endearing, even loveable, about a guy so unapologetically devoted to his movie.
This kind of love is felt throughout Funny People, Apatow’s raunchy, sweet love letter to stand-up comedy, show business and the women who saved him from Hollywood’s abyss. (These women actually appear in the movie themselves; Apatow’s wife Leslie Mann and the couple’s two daughters, Iris and Maude Apatow.) The film stars Adam Sandler as George Simmons, a man not unlike Sandler himself; a successful comedian turned movie star who has made a lot of money making goofy, feel-good comedies. But Simmons feels good about very little. His mansion is an empty labyrinth of swimming pools, big-screen televisions and unused guest bedrooms. One day Simmons is told by the doctor that he has a rare blood disease and very likely only has a few months to live. George has no true friends, the love his life (Mann) left him years ago after he cheated on her at the height of his fame and he fears that he has accomplished next to nothing worthwhile in his time on Earth, despite his hit movies and comedy records. It’s a dilemma that no doubt hits home with guys like Apatow and Sandler; two guys have made millions of dollars making other people laugh.
With only a short time left to live, George hires a meek, young comic named Ira (Seth Rogen) to write jokes for him as he takes the stage for the first time in years. It’s the anti-bromance; George is mean to Ira, putting him down, stealing groupies from him and making constant jokes at Ira’s expense. It’s this edge that keeps Funny People from turning into mushy, Mitch Albom-esque schmaltz. In one of the film’s most powerful scenes, George is onstage, performing a vulgar, funny song about how when he dies no one will miss him; the song, audience laughter and all, is intercut with images of the illness slowly eating away at George’s health and sanity. When George reaches out to his old flame, Laura, it’s less of an act of true love and more of a desperate cry for help towards the last human who still sees George as a creature capable of love at all.