Friendship Review

Never has there been a better time for a film to understand the isolation epidemic. Part of that comes from a global pandemic, another major slice is the worrying rise of online grifters. Streamers, podcast hosts, life coaches, all of them gunning for the attention of the modern-day mind. Without the right support structure offline, people find themselves hooked and hoodwinked by those who have the influence and intelligence to pretend. Be it donations to a livestream because of a parasocial relationship or a sentiment carried to the extreme, it is usually the afflicted party we blame. Friendship hesitates a little when playing the blame game, and finds itself dealing not just with a widespread loneliness but a cast of characters who are as worried it will happen to them as those who it has happened to. Tim Robinson, Paul Rudd, and Kata Mara star in one of the most interesting films of the year.  

Director Andrew DeYoung does exceptionally well to get the most out of the Robinson, Rudd, and Mara trifecta. The I Think You Should Leave star is a powerhouse in comedy. All he needs is the right person behind the camera to work his charm, hone those comedic sensibilities into an extreme adaptation, and there you have it, an all-time great of the screen in the making. Friendship gives Robinson plenty of room to breathe and explore the characteristics not just of isolated middle-manager Craig, but of his quirks as a performer. He has the overarching talent which keeps Tim Heidecker in the comedic circuit, but also the horror market and studio. With heavyweights like Rudd, Mara, and a Connor O’Malley cameo, the transition for Robinson from Netflix sensation to leading man, feels natural. What helps, too, is using the fundamentals of his comedic work and turning those positives into fascinating, drama-adjacent expressions. He has the Tom Green charm, that ability to make the irreverent relevant.  

Friendship depends on that, a little too much in spots when the shock value, particularly with Austin (Rudd), is thrown into the spotlight. Part of the charm is how the disrespectful view of the world, at one time a shameful one, is now the norm. DeYoung oversees a desperate blur of genres, which can get patchy sometimes, with its aimless twists and its fixation on slow zooms. But what comes across well is the heart of the film, a well-presented piece which manages to step away from being merely a feature-length I Think You Should Leave episode. Everything is fleshed out, well enough to empathise with Craig but, crucially, not enough to like him. Even with its deeper touches on isolationism, the social hierarchy and the structure of friendship which keeps the world turning, Friendship makes time for some outstanding comedy, both relevant to the plot and throwaways that deepen the sadness of each character.  

Subtle writing is the greatest strength Friendship has. There are moments which crop up frequently not to throw the pace, but to lighten the mood. Moments of heavy, moody, and often thriller-like momentum are what carry the core of Friendship, but we are eased into it by a riotous Robinson, who is supported well by Rudd and Mara. Some may forget Rudd’s background in comedy now he has sipped from the poison chalice of Marvel, but it is on full display here. Mara, too, is a fantastic addition to a film which is dead set on showing how we are our own worst enemies. Rehabilitation may present itself time and again, but whether we take it, that is between us and the proverbial speed bump of our lives.