Two siblings’ underlying resentment for one another is put to the test by a new love interest in My Blind Brother, a rom-com that often feels like it’s cutting with a blunt edge. In a clever bit of character building, the film opens with Robbie (Adam Scott) effortlessly running through the end of a marathon while his brother, an able-sighted Bill (Nick Kroll) sweats the last leg out trailing behind on Robbie’s guide rope. Here both the plot and joke remains purely on the surface; Bill’s life and accomplishments are performed in his blind brother’s shadow. Often, the unsatisfying aspect to Sophie Goodhart’s directorial debut is in its inability to mine its premise further.

The brothers become increasingly petty to one another over Robbie’s new girlfriend Francie (Jenny Slate), a woman in crisis after her ex-boyfriend gets blindsided by a bus. Slate and Kroll have worked together previously and share a dynamic chemistry on-screen as a romantic pair. Her presence elicits a warmer, more verbally unhinged side to his character—the only version of him in My Blind Brother with charisma. She also has moments of unexpected vulgarity spoken with her delightful, squeaky tone. This movie and everyone in it knows that Francie is dating the wrong brother; however, in the frustrating tradition of romantic comedies, the tension is left to linger everyone cowers away from confrontation.

Considering the level of comedic talent involved, one of the most surprising elements to My Blind Brother is its saccharine quality. Robbie is treated as an unrepentant dick throughout the movie, only to be given a tearful confession at the movie’s end. The character’s disability provides a few solid gags but is handled with a level of naturalism. Kroll, Scott and Slate are all charming presences in their roles—as is a totally magnetic and slightly underserved Zoe Kazan as Slate’s roommate—but knowing each of those actors’ penchants for hilarity, My Blind Brother feels lean on humor.

My Blind Brother is mostly amusing and its performances are strong, however, the tone remains unwavering until the film’s ending: lightly comedic, but unrelentingly self-serious. With so little actively happening in the plot the movie grows dull between stretches of more consistent humor. Sophie Goodhart’s My Blind Brother is thinly plotted and familiar, but this mostly pleasant comedy has a winning romance at its center which elevates the film beyond standard fare.

Feeling oddly jealous—and embarrassed about that jealousy—when her sister was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, Sophie Goodhart began developing a story about a tense sibling relationship largely built around resentment. That inspiration led to her 2003 short film My Blind Brother, which at the time seemed like a launching point for her smooth transition into feature filmmaking. “Since then I’ve had three or four films green-lit, ready to go, and then something happened,” Sophie laments from the Tribeca Film Festival. Her new feature-length directorial debut, also titled My Blind Brother, has been a long time coming, but the version Sophie finally got to make comes with a standout cast.

In her interview with Way Too Indie, My Blind Brother writer / director Sophie Goodhart discusses the long path to production for her debut, spending her option money too quickly, and the benefits of working with longtime friends like Nick Kroll, Adam Scott, and Jenny Slate.

I wanted to ask you about the film’s journey into development because this is a story that’s personal to you, but it’s also a movie that was based on a short film that you had directed.
Sophie Goodhart: Yeah, [the idea started with] my sister being diagnosed with M.S. [multiple sclerosis] when I was in my early twenties. I was sort of embarrassed and kind of surprised to find that I was feeling kind of jealous—and really embarrassed by my jealousy—about the fact that I knew that she was always going to be this incredible hero that battled against great misfortune. So that’s where the short came from.

I got incredibly lucky and worked with three great actors—Tony Hale, John Mattey and Marsha Dietlein—in the original. The short kind of got me agents, and got me certain contacts. Immediately I got these films optioned, and I was like, “Look at me, I’m about to really do it!” I had parties where I bought lots of people drinks where I celebrated my success. Unfortunately, I was, like, way, way, way too soon. I realized that was an expensive mistake to make.

Since then I’ve had three or four films greenlit, ready to go, and then something happened. 2008 happened, everyone needed their money and you couldn’t make films. Or one of the actors leaves and I can’t find a replacement or you couldn’t spend a certain budget on the film. I was writing something completely separate from [My Blind Brother], and was just focused on the Jenny Slate character—about a woman who was going out with this guy who gets killed by a bus just after she’s dumped him. She feels terrible, she kind of hates herself and finds herself on a weird path where she would have been a tragic victim and instead she was just a cruel ex-girlfriend. I realized that her story fit really, really well with this other story so I put them together in this feature. I had to wait around for the perfect cast, the perfect three people, who would mean that I could get over a million to shoot the movie.

There’s a way to interpret the logline of this movie as a broad, Mr. Magoo-style comedy, but your movie stays very tethered to reality. Was there an impulse to go broader or do you prefer to keep your writing grounded?
SG: I always write about things I’m feeling, or worrying about, or have experienced in one way or another. You know, I could research the whole world, or a new environment or a new job, but to have that kind of basic character issue that I’m not connected to I think would make it difficult. I think that the fact that it’s based on some of these feelings that I’ve had, meant that it could [depict] a mean-spirited aspect of humanity. Because it wasn’t just an outsider looking in and mocking it. It was something familiar that I felt and believed.

You had mentioned your three lead actors came aboard as a kind of package. How did you get Jenny Slate, Adam Scott, and Nick Kroll all become involved?
SG: It’s one of those things where you never know which people you meet in your life are going to be the ones to make things happen. It turned out that Sharon Jackson at William Morris Endeavor really connected to the movie, and she had confidence in it. She had enough power to make connections to these people. But I didn’t know that when I initiated talking to her. I wasn’t like, “This is the woman that’s gonna package it.”

The three people who kind of made it happen were my initial producer, Tori, who found the short film. That was reassuring and good news for people doing shorts is that [making them] actually can make a huge difference. Somebody can like it, and they can mention you to try and help you get a feature. Then, Sharon; it’s not often in big agent’s interests to put their time into small films—and this kind of a low budget indie film—but she took a fancy to it and sent it to these bigger actors. Finally, Tyler Davidson saw [our cast], read the script and was like, “Fine, I’m happy to give you a bit more money” than he originally would have been inclined to. It just takes so many happy accidents to get off the ground. And it took such a long time. I felt like I was ready for those happy accidents.

Sometimes it can feel fated in a way.
SG: Yeah, I think after 13 years sitting in my kitchen writing I was like, “oh my god.” It was only hardcore delusion and denial that has meant that I made this because any other human would have just thought, “fuck this, it’s not working.”

What was it like for Jenny Slate and Nick Kroll—who have worked together several times before—and to work with them on developing a romantic dynamic, especially one that is played pretty straight throughout?
SG: With Jenny and Nick and Adam, you just get this unbelievable mix of people who are so intelligent and so good at acting. So nimble about playing jokes and playing them so straight or so small, that they can do pretty much anything. When they read this script, they knew that it was this romantic element, and I didn’t want to play it jokingly. I think they totally delivered. I think the fact that they’re friends meant that I didn’t have to do as much work as I might’ve. And there’s such a beautiful ease between them that I could just say, “And kiss now,” and they just were comfortable, grown-up and intelligent. They were good at acting so it was easy.

What other movies and directors did you look to for influence when putting this movie together?
SG: Two directors that I love are James L. Brooks and Elaine May. I also looked to David O. Russell and Silver Linings Playbook. Then, Knife in the Water, even though tonally it’s so weird—I love the kind of graphic quality of [Polanski’s] work. Elaine May! Her original The Heartbreak Kid is just so fucking good. So those are my inspirations, obviously.

You won’t catch me complaining about rom-coms or decrying the genre as lifeless, well-worn, or ready for bed. One cannot blame a film genre for the laziness of writers, directors, and narrow-minded studios. The same trends we see in consumer products apply to filmmaking. If it works, mass produce it until the market oversaturates and the people demand something new. Leslye Headland is demanding something different. Demanding, and making. Her sophomore film—a follow up to 2012’s Bachelorette—Sleeping With Other People is rom-com 2.0. Or 10.0, who knows which iteration we’re really on, all I know is we are ready for it. Headland must have decided unrealistic banter, comedy based on error and miscommunication, and men being the only ones allowed to misuse sex was getting old. All of which I tend to agree with.

In Sleeping With Other People, Headland, who also wrote the film, presents the “just friends” scenario and frees it up to be honest and self-aware, making for that rare and highly sought after rom-com combo: emotionally fulfilling AND hilarious.  If there is such thing as “organic” comedy, this is it. No one is genetically modifying the laughs in this film, they are all entirely deserved. Does that mean she goes light on the raunch or wickedness? Not for a second.

Starring Alison Brie and Jason Sudeikis, much of the film’s success falls on their mutual magnetism. Brie plays Lainey (but don’t worry she’s nothing like Laney Boggs from She’s All That), a kindergarten teacher with a longtime addiction to her always-unavailable college crush Matthew (Adam Scott). Lainey runs into the guy she lost her virginity to in college, Jake (Sudeikis), at a sex addicts meeting. Since their one-night tryst in college he’s become your typical serial polygamist, successful in his career—he’s just sold his startup to a large corporation led by a sexy CEO (Amanda Peet) he’s determined to nail—and totally absorbed in his sexual amusements. Jake and Lainey attempt a date but decide their mutual attraction will only feed into each other’s bad habit of abusing sex, deciding instead to remain friends.

What ensues is a modern update on When Harry Met Sally’s cynical approach to male-female friendships. Lainey and Jake keep the lines of communication between each other wide open, and similar to Meg Ryan’s famously enlightening lesson on the fake orgasms of woman, this film’s most talked about scene is likely to be when Jake goes into an in-depth (and visually illustrated) lesson on female masturbation. The two are so communicative as to inform each other when they are feeling attracted to the other, developing a safe-word: “mousetrap.”

The real heart of the film lies in their growing friendship and their increased dependence on one another. It’s a modern comedy that allows its characters to fall in love naturally, without the pressure of sex, while also providing plenty of sex throughout the film (with other people). The comedy of the film comes entirely from its honesty and openness, proving that mishaps, mistakes, and misperceptions aren’t the only way for romantic films to utilize comedy.

The dialog pushes Headland’s film far out of the realm of the usual rom-com as well. Not because it’s not bantery, but because the banter is surprising and realistically clever—with all the speed of Sorkin and the referential easter eggs of Gilmore Girls drained of un-believability. Contemporary audiences will appreciate the Millennial-style straight-forwardness and Lainey and Jake’s no-holds-barred conversation style. Throw in some irreverence—like taking drugs at a kid’s birthday party or Lainey’s adulterous weaknesses or Jake’s hesitancy in describing sex with a black woman—and it all adds up to a perfectly balanced amount of laughter and well-built romance.

Brie’s usual sweetness, most evidenced in her role in TV show Community, is balanced with some of the spirit we see her exhibit in AMC’s Mad Men as Trudy Campbell. She’s not a sucker, although she often returns to her hopeless romance with a married man, instead she’s a woman whose sexual desires have only been met by one man and she’s never known what it is to have emotional and sexual fulfillment in the same place. She’s not a victim, she never needs saving, she just needs a friend.

Sudeikis is also impressive, reigning in any lingering SNL silliness and playing as believably sexy and flawed, but not despicable. He could easily have made Jake appear creepy,—taking advantage of Lainey’s friendship—or pitiful—falling for a girl he may never get—but he stays equal parts damaged and dashing at all times.

They are surrounded by a great supporting cast including Jason Mantzoukas in my favorite role of his yet, and Natasha Lyonne playing both the mandatory best friend and mandatory gay best friend all at once, even if she’s not wholly believable as Lainey’s best friend. Adam Scott also plays against type as a nerdy scumbag, and Adam Brody goes big in his one early scene with Brie to hilarious effect.

The possibilities in romantic scenarios will never cease (though most romantic comedies tend to navigate to the same three or four), and Headland turns to one we’ve seen plenty of times before—the friendship-turned-romantic situation—but her approach is outgoing and unrestrained, not only with her humor but in the total transparency between her lead characters. These characters may be more clever than most people we know, more attractive, and more successful, but their friendship feels relatable and their flaws are actual which makes for heartier laughs and an aphrodisiacal love story.

A version of this review first ran as part of our 2015 Tribeca Film Festival coverage. 

It can become harder to develop friendships as you grow older. For Emily and Alex, who recently moved from Seattle to Los Angeles with their young son R.J., they’re worried about their ability to make those new connections in an unfamiliar neighborhood. But when R.J. starts to play with another boy at the park, Emily and Alex are introduced to the boy’s enigmatic father, Kurt (Jason Schwartzman). The sleekly dressed, seemingly clichéd Angeleno opens with a joke about his son’s vegan diet before kindly offering recommendations of the best local shops and restaurants.

Kurt can’t resist himself though, there’s so much more to share, so he invites the newly relocated couple over for dinner that night with him and his wife. Emily (Orange Is The New Black’s Taylor Schilling) argues worst-case scenario is they’ll go home after a boring night and Alex (Adam Scott) worries the bottle of Two Buck Chuck they brought with them isn’t fancy enough; however, neither expects their overnight family playdate will test the couple’s openness, and the strength of Emily and Alex’s marital bond.

At the onset of The Overnight, Emily and Alex guide each other through their morning sex. They accommodate one another and exchange helpful instructions, but seem to have made “self-completion” a ritualistic finish. They’re a cooperative couple, even if they’re not perfectly compatible. Their collective anxiety is largely embodied by Adam Scott’s performance as Alex. Shades of Scott’s Parks and Recreation persona manifesting itself in Alex’s neurosis, particularly the character’s habit of impulsively lying in response to questions in order to respond “the right way.” Yes of course he paints with acrylics, who wouldn’t?

Alex is constantly on the back foot in Kurt’s house. Kurt comes on very strong, and from almost the moment that Emily and Alex arrive at Kurt’s house they’re deluged by his conversation. The Spanish lessons Kurt gives his kindergarten-aged son, the water filtration business he’s installing in third world countries, his pompous pronunciation of, “the South of France,” (as if France is pronounced with an ‘aw’). It’s a flood of superfluous character building that takes too long to work through, even with a helping of chuckle-worthy line readings.

For most of The Overnight (which only runs 80 minutes long) we’re waiting for the movie to get to its point. The dynamics of the “family playdate” become increasingly bizarre, but when the alcohol begins to work as a conversational lubricant (as it’s wont to do) the couples’ conversation starts to explore ideas of openness and honesty. Most of the talk steers sexual and you wonder when someone will finally say the word, “swinger,” but there exists a frank and humorous honesty in the characters’ words. When a vulnerable Alex admits to his size-related body issues, it’s uncomfortably funny but oddly touching, seeing new friends bond through understanding.

Taylor Schilling’s Emily appears to be the more self-assured half of the primary pairing. She’s the primary breadwinner for the family and retains more self-control once the adults have worked their way through a couple bottles of red wine. She’s not the butt of nearly as many jokes as her fictional husband, but Taylor Schilling gives Emily a cool, loving energy that makes her performance fun to watch while maintaining a complexity to her character. The Overnight makes it clear that Emily and Alex are very understanding to each other, and refreshingly, they take the time to consult one another throughout the film. The dilemmas here don’t emerge from clichéd bickering, they stem from the complications of a strong couple that are open to each other’s desires.

The instigator for most of the film’s hijinks is Schwartzman’s Kurt, and the potential to enjoy the comedy relies largely on his performance (as well as a tolerance for penis humor). The talkative character Kurt proceeds through the night brazenly dictating the couples’ agenda. It can be hilarious, as he is when confidently strutting naked around the pool, but other times it registers as awkward and unmotivated, like when he shows Emily and Alex a mildly pornographic movie of his wife Charlotte (Judith Godrèche). Schwartzman has an ability to remain charming even as an irritating character, and for the most part, Kurt is mysterious enough to stay intriguing.

The wild night created by The Overnight’s writer/director Patrick Brice (director of SXSW film Creep, also produced by the Duplass Brothers) does uniquely capture the contagious nature of a fun night around people you love. Even as his film plays dumb with its premise a little too much, it’s forgivable within the context of the intoxicating night Emily and Alex share with Charlotte and Kurt. They’re having too much fun exploring their boundaries honestly, and it’s usually entertaining enough to keep watching them.

The Overnight could easily be faulted for its couple of questionable turns, the directness with which the ending lays all the cards out on the table, or the film’s liberal use of prosthetic penises (which might have been the centerpiece in an Apatow or McKay comedy, so kudos to The Overnight). The movie mostly makes up for it by developing a compelling situation, and facilitating charismatic performances from Scott, Schilling and Schwartzman. The Overnight is a sexually adventurous, occasionally uncomfortable comedy with an outrageous ending, but one that feels like the proper result of its story.

A version of this review first appeared as part of our Tribeca 2015 coverage. 

Patrick Brice’s titillating new comedy The Overnight comes with a fair share of notable names attached to the project. The film is executive produced by indie darling Mark Duplass, it’s the first feature released by Adam Scott and his wife’s production company’s Gettin’ Rad Productions, and it stars Jason Schwartzman as well as Orange Is The New Black‘s Taylor Schilling. Brice’s film explores a hilarious situation involving a pair of parents to young children arranging an “overnight family playdate” at their home that turns into a sexual exploration; however, The Overnight is only the second narrative piece made by the filmmaker.

Sitting down with Way Too Indie, Patrick Brice discusses his senior thesis documentary on Paris’ last 35MM porn theater, producing his first feature Creep with only Mark Duplass and a camera, as well as the transition into working with a full crew for The Overnight.

Are these premieres exciting for you?
Yeah, they’re very exciting.

It’s good to see it with a crowd?
Oh yeah, it’s the best. When I first wanted to become a filmmaker I never thought I’d make movies where it would be contingent on crowd noise and crowd reaction. I go see my friends’ films that are dramas, and you don’t hear anything at all throughout the movie, so it’s fun to watch this movie with an audience for sure.

Did you want to be a more serious filmmaker? Not to disparage this film.
Yeah, yeah. You mean, make movies with a more serious subject matter?

Just making movies that are more dramatic.
It’s funny. I’m not interested in one particular genre. Both movies I’ve made have been these kind of genre hybrids. That’s just a result of me navigating these stories and deciding what feels right in any given moment. Whether it’s a darker moment or something that’s lighter.

So I was going to ask what it’s like directing prosthetic penises.
[laughs] It’s the best! I mean, it’s hard to do. Everyone is giggling the whole time so it’s this ridiculous, fun—it doesn’t feel like work basically. At all.

I can imagine the diving underwater being hysterical on set, a little tricky to give direction for, but it’s a really funny moment.
For sure. And we couldn’t keep them in the water for that long. They’re made of this sponge-like material, so they actually absorb water. Jason’s was… [Patrick makes hand motions].

It expands more?
Yeah [laughs], it was a bad thing.

What was the initial inspiration for The Overnight?
Mark Duplass and I had worked together on this film Creep, and we were just trying to think of another small project to work on together, he said he would produce a script if I wrote it and I was thinking a lot about what I can do with a small amount of money essentially. An idea of having the film set in one house, and having only four actors. Then reverse engineering it from there in terms of how do you make a single-location space dynamic? I had made a documentary when I graduated from Cal Arts, and my thesis film was about the last porn theater in Paris that still plays 35MM film. So sex has kind of been on the mind for sure.

I was thinking about movies like Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? and After Hours and these movies that take place in 24 hours, so [I] ultimately decided it would be this film about this foursome. Then it was once again reverse engineering it from there and thinking about how I can create a situation where it’s actually believable that these characters would get to the point that they do.

Do you get excited by that reverse engineering process?
Well it’s all I’ve known so far. I’ve only known working within constraints because I’ve only had a certain amount of money for each of my projects. For Creep we had basically no money because we had no crew. The whole movie was just me, Mark and a video camera.

So then with this movie I knew I was going to have a small amount of crew, and even just having the people around me that I did felt like a luxury because I had this other experience where I had no one. It’s been a great way to ease myself into making stuff, because I recognize each new tool that comes in and find that I’m able to use it consciously more. Actually having a relation with your gaffer, you know? I don’t know if that’s a result of the way that things have gone so far or that’s just my weird way of working but that’s the way it’s gone.

What kind of benefit do you get from having Mark Duplass on as a producer?
I wouldn’t have been able to get all these actors if it weren’t for him, and if it weren’t for his reputation. He was kind of like a godfather figure of this show. We knew that Adam & Naomi had started Gettin’ Rad Productions, their production company, and that Naomi was wanting to produce features. So it was really great bringing those guys in because we kind of had this package of this amazing actor with Adam, and then Naomi who’s one of the best professional relationships I’ve had in my life. She’s just an amazing producer.

It’s been a great relationship working with Mark because he’s not only been someone who’s sort of helped guide me through this world, but he’s also someone who appreciates my sense of humor. To have someone who not only is kind of your boss but also gets you and appreciates you, that’s priceless.

How’d you first end up developing a relationship with Mark?
We have mutual friends. I’m good friends with Adele Romanski, she’s a producer. She produced The Myth of the American Sleepover and a couple other movies. She produced Mark’s wife’s two films The Freebie and Black Rock so it was just through moving to Los Angeles and meeting them. I was still in school, I was in Cal Arts when I met Mark. We had just met for coffee a couple times, you know. Kind of discussing—there are just so many ways your career path can go in terms of film, so it was an organic relationship.

Like you said, you’re expanding the scope in terms of this production. Were there any obstacles to incorporating all these new elements as a filmmaker?
I don’t think I ever felt obstacles with it. I’m a pretty open guy. I’m fairly egoless, so I would go to each new person that I’d be working with that I hadn’t worked with. I hadn’t even made a short before, I had primarily done documentary stuff, and then I made this odd found footage hybrid experiment thing with Mark. For me it was a chance to really understand all of these roles and just try to elevate everyone in their own way. I never pretended to know something I didn’t know. I was with enough people who had enough experience that when there were moments when I felt like I wasn’t the authority, they would step in. I see the role of the director as guiding the energy of a shoot. Obviously I wanted to protect and guide the story for sure. Because I had such smart, conscious collaborators that’s why I was able to make this movie in the way that we did.

How structured was your script?
This was a full, detailed — it was totally scripted.

So it’s not like some of the highly improvised Duplass-produced movies?
No, I had done that. Creep was totally improvised, that was just a 10-page outline, but The Overnight had a full script. Which was great to have that as our sort of anchor, and then people ask if there’s improv in the movie, and there is, but it’s almost peppered within the lines. It was really just trying to create an environment where the actors felt free. Free to play, but we already had a nice guide there for us.

Does that mean like fun run type of stuff, or loose last takes?
We did that a couple times but for the most part it was just someone would say a line in the middle of another line that worked, or there was a reaction that was unexpected or something like that. Going into this we wanted to play it real as much as possible, so we wanted it to feel as natural as possible. I think with some actors that might be kind of scary to say you can play. A lot of people need that sort of structure, but these guys were game.

What’s the next step for you? The film comes out in June, so are you doing mostly press or have you started a new project?
Yeah, I’m writing right now. I’m writing the next project but in between that, the next two months are going to be really crazy. We’re playing a bunch of different film festival: San Francisco, Seattle, Chicago Critics Festival. Then we’re going to be doing New York and L.A. premieres for the movie so it’s going to be a lot of distraction from writing. I’m looking forward to getting back into the “putting on sweatpants and taking my dog on a walk.”

You prefer that aspect?
Yeah, for sure. But this is fun, too, obviously.

Hot Tub Time Machine 2, the painfully unfunny sequel to its very funny predecessor, is a movie about three dicks making dick jokes in the future. If you’ve never seen boobs before, love cutting class with your pre-teen skater homies, and draw genitalia on your friends’ faces when they pass out on the couch, you’re going to get a kick out of this movie, bro. But for the rest of us, this laugh-less, schlocky parade of ill-conceived gags has the entertainment value of, well, hanging out with a bunch of pre-teen skater homies for an hour and a half. Juvenile humor can be funny when it’s done right, but most of the time, it just pisses me off. I’ve got better things to do.

The first movie saw four friends travel back through a time portal to a pivotal weekend in 1986, while the sequel sends them hurtling forward in time to 2025. John Cusack starred in that film as the straight man, but he wisely declined a return for director Steve Pink’s second spin in the sci-fi jacuzzi. Rob Corddry is the lead this go-round, reprising his role as scumbag drug addict Lou, now the billionaire head of search engine empire “Lougle” and lead singer of hair metal outfit “Motley Lou”. Also exploiting his post-1986 insider info is Nick (Craig Robinson), who’s made a career as a pop star by releasing crummy versions of songs that haven’t been released yet, like Lisa Loeb’s “Stay” and the Black Eyed Peas’ “I Gotta Feeling”. Jacob (Clark Duke), Lou’s son, hasn’t done much of anything since the events of the first movie, resigning himself to just hanging out in his dad’s mansion.

The plot starts in earnest when Lou’s genitals get blown away by a shotgun-wielding mystery man at his own party. Nick and Duke drag Lou’s emasculated ass to the hot tub to go back in time and stop his murderer. Instead, they jump 10 years ahead and find themselves in a world where man-skirts are all the rage, Jessica Williams is the host of the Daily Show, reality TV has life-or-death stakes, and smart cars hold grudges. To call any of Pink and screenwriter Josh Heald’s future gags “satirical” would be insanely generous, and they know that. But seriously, none of their jokes about technology are even worth a chuckle, so what’s the point of the future setting anyway? It’s a missed opportunity.

The first thing the three amigos do upon arriving in the future is seek out their old pal Adam, though what they find instead is his clean-cut son, Adam Jr. (Adam Scott), who happens to be getting married the next day, but decides to accompany his dad’s buddies on their mission anyway, because why the f*ck not? When Lou, the douchebag that he is, tricks Adam Jr. into taking an extreme mind-altering drug at a night club, so starts the craziest 24 hours of the soon-to-be husband’s life, in which he does unspeakable things like have butt sex with Nick. Yes, that’s what this movie is.

Like the far superior Anchorman franchise, Hot Tub 2 rattles off jokes rapid-fire, the silly, moronic back-and-forth between its characters bludgeoning us remorselessly. The problem is, while Anchorman hits you with hilarious line after hilarious line, Hot Tub 2 hits you with dud after dud after dud, and one can only take so much before the failed attempts become utterly exhausting. What’s worse, the film takes a strange turn toward morality in its final act, promoting faithfulness and sobriety and self-accountability. You know: adult stuff.

Why? WHY? It’s as if right before they started production they were like, “Oh crap! This movie needs to say something meaningful! We have a responsibility to the people!” If these guys made the movie as an excuse to hang with their buddies, make some dough, and slap together some dumb jokes they’ve had rattling around in their heads, they should just fess up and embrace it, not try to dupe us into thinking there’s more to this movie than there is.

The talent on hand is a talented bunch, but their skills go to waste. This may be Corddry and Robinson’s worst work yet, but Duke’s acting is actually pretty solid most of the time, making Jacob the most memorable character by far. Hot Tub Time Machine 2 left me completely drained. Films of its ilk that lean heavily on pop culture references and rape humor will hopefully die out in the next few years, and at best, this comedy stinker will help expedite that process.

Emanuel and the Truth about Fishes

Sitting in the 9am screening of Francesca Gregorini’s Emanuel and the Truth about Fishes, I was surrounded by sleepy film fans and people uncertain of what to expect from what they were about to see. Myself, I had taken an interest in Gregorini’s film as soon as I saw the synopsis hit the Sundance web page late last year. I then watched the interview with her on the Sundance YouTube channel and became increasingly eager to see her story.

Emanuel and the Truth about Fishes was an incredible artistic, poignant and heartfelt tale drawing upon Gregorini’s personal issues about loss, guilt and pain whilst focusing on the courage to overcome individual trauma. The narrative also highlights the strong emotional connection humans can hold for each other, and in Emanuel’s case (portrayed by Kaya Scodelario), the effects on a troubled child longing to find a mother figure in her life.

Emanuel meets Linda (Jessica Biel), the mysterious lady who moves in next door, she is a new mother it would seem and Emanuel is instantly intrigued by this woman. Their relationship grows when Emanuel volunteers to babysit Linda’s newborn baby, and develop an affectionate bond towards each other.

Kaya Scodelario is the heart of this story, her emotion is so unbelievably real throughout the entire film – if not lead astray by Hollywood, her career will only continue to progress and her performances, excel. Many closed-minded men may disagree as the film was extremely feminine and focused on trauma only women can really relate to. Others that may focus more on dialogue could find faults within the screenplay as some criticized it as being very “written after attending a screenwriting seminar” feel. However, Emanuel and the Truth about Fishes is overall a fantastic achievement for Francesca Gregorini and an absolute pleasure to watch.

RATING: 9.4

A.C.O.D

Going into this film I undoubtedly had expectations in regards to it being a comedy, as the chosen cast were renowned for their humour. Adam Scott and Amy Poehler work as such an amazing comedic couple in Parks and Recreation that knowing their characters were the complete opposite of that in A.C.O.D, where Poehler is now Scott’s stepmother – I expected hilarity to ensue. Ultimately I was very disappointed with the lack of overall chemistry of the cast. That said however, I did enjoy A.C.O.D as it was a ‘good’ comedy; it just didn’t utilize the actors’ comedic potential enough.

Carter (Adam Scott) was unknowingly part of a research study focusing on observing Children of Divorce when he was younger; in fact the woman investigating this study, Dr Judith (Jane Lynch) wrote a book about him and other children involved. As Carter’s brothers wedding in announced and the preparation commences, Carter is responsible for getting his parents to be civil towards each other ready for the ‘big day’. This results in extremely comedic scenes and Carter eventually getting in touch with his old therapist, Dr Judith.

Scott was the perfect guy to represent the awkwardness of Carter’s character as his blunt and dry self-conscious sense of humour really highlights the effects of the trauma he is undergoing through his parents messy relationship.

Although A.C.O.D was not my favourite film of the day, nor is it one likely watch again – I’d certainly say it’s worth seeing at least once. It gives you the chance to see the diversity of Adam Scott’s abilities as an actor as they really shine through, and there are some real classic comedic moments that shouldn’t be overlooked.

RATING: 7.6

Mud

Mud is a story focused on a compassionate fugitive deserted on a lonely island surrounded by the Mississippi Rivers. This is until two adventurous young boys stumble across this rugged man whilst trying to salvage a lost boat. The two boys, Ellis (Tye Sheridan) and his best friend Neckbone (Jacob Lofland) are hesitant when they first meet Mud, as he is an unkempt looking man, whose sun dyed skin and worn out appearance gives them reason for caution – that and the fact he has a pistol tucked into his trousers. Mud introduces himself and tells the boys that he is waiting for a woman to meet him and asks if they could bring him food the next time they visit the island.

Tye under the impression that Mud is undergoing this hardship for love wants to help him and Neckbone being his best friend agrees to assist Tye in doing so. There are certain scenes that highlight the personalities of these two young boys and these are what made the film – their chemistry and on screen relationship has been likened to the young boys in Stand by Me.

Illustrating immersive imagination and extracting impeccable performances from all members of the cast, Jeff Nichols did a fantastic job representing a carefully constructed Deep South dramatic feature. Mud will do extremely well through it festival experiences, and will, without a doubt make it onto the big screen with huge success.

RATING: 8.6