
“Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art. It has no survival value. Rather, it is one of those things which give value to survival”
These words by C.S. Lewis can be found in his book Four Loves, his meditation on faith, friendship and life in general. It has always stood out to me as a very valuable sentiment in terms of describing the exact purpose friendship has in our lives – it’s not mandatory to have such companions, but they certainly do make life much easier and more pleasant. I have personally been blessed to have several wonderful friends throughout my life – but oddly enough, it’s not the good ones we always tend to remember, but the bad ones too, which is the foundation on which Andrew DeYoung builds Friendship, his wonderfully idiosyncratic ode to companionship. It follows Craig, a mild-mannered but slightly socially awkward man who lives a relatively pleasant suburban life – he has a good job, a solid marriage and a fine relationship with his teenage son. However, when he meets Austin, a handsome and charismatic weatherman who recently moved down the road, he finds himself desperately desiring to befriend his new neighbour – but it doesn’t take too long for their budding friendship to fall apart at the seams, which causes Craig to be plunged into a state of existential dread as he ponders the reasons behind such a sudden shift in their dynamic. A hilarious, irreverent and deeply strange film in which director DeYoung (who is making his debut, a very impressive first effort in terms of both the narrative and its execution) explores certain very resonant concepts in a way that highlights the absurdity of modern existence, while also being a profoundly offbeat examination of the the human condition that is simultaneously funny and heartfelt, albeit not in the ways that we would expect. Friendship is one of the best comedies of the year, particularly in how it finds the perfect balance between style and substance, and immediately positions DeYoung as one of the most promising young filmmakers working today, for several reasons that become increasingly clear as this absolutely deranged film progresses.
Friendship is a film that has to be viewed as more of a parable than anything else – the entire premise is built on the very traditional plot structure of introducing us to a mildly tragic protagonist, giving him a taste of success and then rapidly taking it away from him, forcing him to fall victim to his delusions as he attempts to win back what he barely had to begin with. It’s a very easy film to unpack in terms of its ideas, but it’s the manner in which it addresses its core themes that make it such a wildly strange and outrageously brilliant work. The foundation is, as we would expect, exploring friendship, and how it can be something we all crave but sometimes struggle to find, or maintain in some situations. The best way to describe this film is as a visual manifestation of the insecurities we all feel when gathered with people we consider our friends, the sense of awkwardness and discomfort that emerges in our minds as we wonder whether or not we are being perceived as effortlessly charming and likable, or as a frustrating jester, the least-desirable person in the room and someone who is only present for the sake of maintaining the peace. These are the ideas that DeYoung explores with this film, which is a steadfast investigation into the struggles we all endure when it comes to dealing with a relationship that is a bit more than being casual acquaintances, but slightly less than being romantic partners, a distinction that the film makes quite clear throughout. Added onto this, we find that Friendship is also about a specific kind of masculinity – we’ve seen enough stories about young people entering into the early stages of adulthood and the obstacles they face, but very rarely are there explorations of the same ideas from the perspective of those who have already settled into their lives, but still crave attention and companionship in some way. Friendship is bitingly funny in how it combines discussions around adult friendships with glimpses into the lives of painfully mediocre men as they try and assert their dominance, leading to a film that contains many surprising elements, all drawn from the same very simple but nonetheless deeply compelling premise.
In bringing this story to life, DeYoung had the good fortune of being able to collaborate with two exceptionally gifted actors, both of whom are more than willing to commit to the outright absurdity of this film, embracing its bizarre nature and proving that there is a lot more to be said about this story than we initially expect based on a cursory glance. Tim Robinson is the lead in what is his first leading role in a film, and as someone who has been an adamant supporter of him since his short but unforgettable tenure as arguably the most woefully misunderstood member of the current generation of Saturday Night Live, it was nothing short of enthralling to see his ingenuity brought to life on screen in this film. One of the most unique performers of the past few years, and someone who always bewilders and delights in equal measure, Robinson is such a fascinating presence, and someone whose unconventional gifts are perfectly utilised in this film, where his tendency to play off-kilter individuals who seem to mean well but still don’t seem to entirely understand basic social cues becomes the central foundation for the entire narrative. He’s joined by Paul Rudd, who has never been better – he has always thrived when playing these smarmy, vaguely arrogant everymen who seem to believe that they are better than they are in reality, and Friendship underlines these abilities, giving Rudd the chance to turn in some of his most exciting work in years. Robinson and Rudd have very different acting styles, yet they are a perfect match for one another – or at least as far as the film allows them to be seen as compatible, since there is something genuinely quite sinister about the dynamic between these two characters, which the film is very easy to exploit throughout. They have incredible chemistry, being able to match each other’s energy while also not coming across as if they are attempting to one-up the other, being perfectly in sync with one another as they face the demented charms of this film directly and without even an ounce of inauthenticity, consistently finding new ways to build on these strange but endearing characters.
The use of these two actors (as well as some members of the supporting cast) indicates that Friendship is not a film that is interested in following conventions, and we find that both Robinson and Rudd are used as pawns for the director’s extremely strange attempts to deconstruct a specific kind of masculinity, which he does through critically engaging with the core themes in a very unconventional but nonetheless profoundly entertaining way. There is never a moment in which we can predict what is going to happen next throughout this film, and DeYoung is very much aware of our expectations, often outright teasing us with plot developments that not only never occur, but where the exact opposite actually happens (for example, the protagonist’s wife is constantly asking for a bigger vehicle, which coincides with his new friend mentioning his own dream car – this small plot point is resolved, but not in the way that we would expect), leading us to abandon all sense of logic and just embrace the eccentric nature of this film as it is delivered to us. The entire story is enshrouded in a very dense, harsh tone – anyone who has seen Robinson’s previous work such as I Think You Should Leave will at least have a partial idea on what to expect, but DeYoung amplifies it to an almost unbearable degree, creating a film that is deeply unpleasant, but in a way that we simply cannot resist. Discomfort is a powerful narrative tool, and one that has only been mastered by a small group of filmmakers, and is usually restricted to horror films. In many ways, Friendship does play out like a very tense psychological thriller, but only in how we fail to predict any of its twists and turns, coupled with the fact that both leads are so profoundly frustrating in terms of their flaws, we cannot help but surrender to the uncomfortable, almost nihilistic approach to the humour that makes this such an incredibly entertaining film. This is not the kind of comedy in which we can simply passively watch the images go by – if the viewer is not having some kind of visceral reaction (whether positive or negative), the purpose has not been achieved. However, it would be difficult to find someone who doesn’t respond in some kind of visceral manner to this delightfully demented dark comedy, which is as bleak as it is relentlessly funny.
All of this does ultimately mean that it is an acquired taste (although I find the attempts to pair this with the broader sub-genre of “cringe comedy” slightly misguided – this film doesn’t make one cringe so much as it instills in them a deep sense of existential dread), but for those who can leap onto its wavelength, Friendship is unquestionably a work of sheer, unhinged brilliance. There is something so beguiling about this film, which should not be this entertaining – how else do we explain that a story about two hopelessly pathetic men who represent the dull, faceless masses of contemporary American society is secretly one of the year’s most subversive, challenging works? Friendship is an outrageously funny and deeply cynical glimpse into the mind of mediocre individuals who lack any real substance, and who seemingly only exist for the sake of representing the hordes of people who allow themselves to be sold on the idea of the American Dream, as if it exists in any meaningful way. It’s a daring, provocative work that not only establishes DeYoung as an effortlessly gifted filmmaker but also consolidates Robinson as a true leading man and proves that Rudd is capable of stepping out of his comfort zone when the role is worthy of his effort. It’s a tremendous film, one that will not be appealing to everyone (especially those who don’t find the humour in awkwardness, since that is the primary asset that this film is peddling), but for those who can see what the film is attempting to say, Friendship is an absolute riot, an outrageously funny and often quite unsettling depiction of relationships between men, following their attempts to simply feel some sense of belonging, but finding that it is far easier to just retreat into a state of psychosis, which is precisely where this film takes up residence, being equally entertaining and disconcerting, and making the most of absolutely every unhinged moment of pure, unbridled artistic madness.