
Every family tends to have the designated dunce, the person who is always getting into scrapes and precarious situations, but who we still love regardless – and if you think your family doesn’t have one, I have some bad news for you. We are taught to love our families regardless of their imperfections, but sometimes it can be frustrating when we have to deal with someone who doesn’t quite have what it takes to be considered entirely reliable – but we still love them nonetheless. This is the starting point for Our Idiot Brother, in which Jesse Peretz writes and directs the story of Ned, a happy-go-lucky organic farmer who is sent away to prison after mistakenly selling drugs to a police officer. He is soon released, but finds himself forced into a difficult position when his ex-girlfriend makes it clear that she no longer wants him in her home, leaving him to find refuge with his family, namely his three very different sisters, each of whom states that they are happy to help him on a temporary basis, without realising just how demanding it can be to attempt to reign in someone who has lived his entire life as a free spirit, immune from any responsibility. It’s a very charming film, and one in which Peretz (who has earned a reputation as one of the more intriguing independent directors of the past couple of years, although he hasn’t made a film in a while) takes on some broader and slightly more serious themes, reworking them to be the foundation for one of the most irreverent and compelling deconstructions of the nuclear family of its era, an upbeat and entertaining series of conversations about the bonds that exist between adult siblings, and the challenges that often accompany us as we set out to answer some difficult questions, all the while being as outrageously funny and smart in both concept and execution, proving that it isn’t always easy to categorise certain stories at a cursory glance, some of the more insightful ideas emerging in ways that we would not always imagine.
Family is certainly not a subject that should be new to any of us when it comes to looking at any medium – we tend to find that this is a topic that has been extensively discussed in every conceivable medium, being one of the cornerstone themes of just about every style of storytelling, whether fiction or documentary. The reason for this is simple – while every person’s unique situation may differ, for the most part we find that family is one subject to which we can all relate in some way, even if we’re not discussing biological families, and rather looking at more metaphorical or abstract depictions of the topic. Our Idiot Brother is built around a very simple premise – what if, in a family where three out of the four offspring seem to have their lives entirely in order, but eventually come to realise it is the sibling who has always been viewed as the runt of the litter that turns out to be the most level-headed and logical? Naturally, the primary reason for this film to exist is as a hilariously off-the-wall exploration of familial dynamics and the roles we all play in each other’s lives, but there is still a sense of the film wanting to say even more than this, which we find anchoring the entire narrative, making it a far more engaging affair than we may expect, filling in the more ambiguous spaces and emerging as one of the more heartfelt explorations of family in recent memory. Obviously, the film also touches on additional themes, such as marital strife, the stringent conventions that govern society and even some gender and sexuality, and while none of these are ever the focus (or even entirely well-defined beyond the bare minimum), they do play a vital role in the construction of this film, which is a far more engaging affair than any of us may initially expect based on a cursory glance at this story and the ideas that we anticipate will be communicated throughout the narrative, which gives Our Idiot Brother a very distinct appearance and allows it to be a lot more engaging and unique than we may expect.
Considering his reputation and the fact that he is one of the more popular comedic actors of his generation, its very easy to view Our Idiot Brother as a vehicle for Paul Rudd, who was at the point in his career where he no longer had to play second fiddle to more notable comedians, but rather had the opportunity to lead films of his own. This is some of his best work, primarily because he is allowed to simply play to his strengths – there is a tendency to consider the work of comedians to only be noteworthy when they’re playing against type, not when they are delivering well-crafted, perfectly-curated performances that draw on their inherent skills, since its viewed to simply be focusing on the strengths. It does feel slightly more abstract than some of Rudd’s other work, but only because it finds him going even further than he normally does, turning Ned into a truly lovable slacker who is as charming as he is offbeat, and which proves to be a perfect use of his gifts. He’s joined by a fantastic supporting cast – Elizabeth Banks, Emily Mortimer and Zooey Deschanel are all wonderfully distinct, but still find interesting details that give off the illusion that they are siblings with Rudd, their natural chemistry and ability to play off one another being terrific. Steve Coogan is a scene-stealer as the philandering documentary filmmaker, while Kathryn Hahn (before becoming one of the most beloved comedic actors working today) is a riot as the closest this film has to a legitimate villain. Several other actors appear in thankless supporting roles (including Adam Scott and Sterling K. Brown, who have become such firm figureheads of dramatic television, its slightly jarring to see them being so outrageously funny), and while the film is mostly designed to underline Rudd’s ability to command the screen, Our Idiot Brother works primarily because of the actors more than anyone else, leading to quite a charming and effective film.
More than anything else, we find that Our Idiot Brother works because it is so confident in its ideas and assured of its ability to quite easily communicate these themes without needing to become too heavy-handed in its approach. The foundation on which the film is built comes through in the underlying commentary, which we find is designed to lean into the humour, but not so much that the tender core is entirely neglected. The reason Peretz is such an interesting filmmaker is that his writing can be both heartfelt and funny, and the process of putting these ideas into practice doubles down on these abilities, quietly and methodically proving to be a much more subtle affair, while still maintaining some degree of consistency in terms of its humour, which is never lost, even when it does tend to veer towards the more downbeat in quite unexpected moments, showing it is much more mature than it seems. The right approach is simply to introduce these ideas and follow through on the theme as extensively and appropriately as possible, never leaning too heavily into one side more than the other. Family-based comedies usually derive a lot of humour from the use of off-the-wall personalities and how they can tend to clash in hilarious and unexpected ways, and while this is certainly the initial foundation on which the narrative is built, Peretz does not limit himself to that aspect in particular, taking every opportunity to strengthen the themes and make it a lot more complex than we would expect at first. There’s something wonderfully endearing about a film that is willing to push through the layers of heavy-handed commentary, delivering a much more simple effort that knows how to juggle both offbeat humour and the underlying melancholy, both of which are vital to the success of the film, and the primary reason Our Idiot Brother has achieved some support as a cult comedy that may have its imperfections, but which are certainly not notable enough to remove the brilliance of the film as a whole.
Our Idiot Brother is not a perfect film, but it is one that legitimately can be described as providing exactly what you pay for, and not an ounce more. There is something very charming about a film that is this willing to take a few risks while also being wise enough to not venture too far out of its comfort zone, knowing that there is only so much off-the-wall absurdity that the audience can take before it becomes frustrating. The film, as a whole, is a delightfully odd affair – Rudd is fantastic, and the supporting cast does manage to keep up, particularly since he is delivering very strong work that is well within his wheelhouse, but also has some degree of nuance beneath the surface. It’s a very compelling film, and one that more than earns our respect and admiration, primarily because of how willing it is to be funny without the expectation of needing to be smarter or more subversive. Its rare that we find comedy films that are this willing to be daring, but Our Idiot Brother proves that it can be done, particularly in how it unpacks the deepest recesses of the human condition with sincerity, humour and a seemingly never-ending stream of off-kilter jokes that may not always be appropriate, but at the very least feel like they ultimately match exactly what this film was attempting to say. Hilarious, irreverent and always charming, Our Idiot Brother is a delight, and proof that some films can tackle important subject matter while still not taking themselves all that seriously, one of the many terrific quirks of this delightful film.