Illustration by Michael DiMilo
Cringeworthy: Film Review of Friendship
★★★1/2
By Geoff Carter
Comedies like The Office, Curb Your Enthusiasm, and Flight of the Concords can be almost unbearably uncomfortable to watch—which is the point. Focusing on narcissistic characters whose social ineptness gets them into cringeworthy socially awkward situations, these programs produce moments that make the viewer simultaneously wince and chuckle. When Larry David offers, as an act of kindness, to dry clean a Klansman’s robe in Curb Your Enthusiasm or when Michael Scott attempts to force his coworker Meredith into rehab on The Office, you don’t whether to laugh or cringe.
This begs the question of what is the nature of these characters’ appeal? Why would we want to watch these horrible people? According to Alison Herman in her article “The Psychology of Cringe Comedy: Why We Love to Watch What Hurts Us”, the complicated relationship between comedy, stress, embarrassment, and relief is a kind of catharsis for our own social anxieties. Counterintuitively, cringe comedy relies on empathy—we sympathize for these pathetic characters caught in terrible situations of their own making, seeing ourselves in their places.
Andrew DeYoung’s film Friendship is a cringe comedy that takes the personas of these clueless social misfits into deeper psychological territory. Although the Michael Scotts and Larry Davids of this genre might have some complexities built into them, they are, by and large, stereotypical characters, perhaps because the greater part of their respective sensibilities are built on their narcissistic personalities. In other words, their vision of the world does not go any further than the mirror, and since their needs and desires are only based on their own needs, they are eminently predictable.
A large part of the effectiveness of the cringe comedy genre is its close relationship to reality. Programs like The Office is taped as a “mockumentary” while the personas of Larry David in Curb Your Enthusiasm and Sacha Cohn Baron’s Da Ali G Show and offshoots Borat and Bruno feature characters that are closely linked to the real-life personas of the actors. Larry David sports his own name in Curb Your Enthusiasm and has maintained that the show’s David is an extension of his own personality. Of course, this makes the social gaffes seem even more realistic and closer to the viewers’ own experience.
Craig Waterman (Tim Robinson) of Friendship has—like Shrek’s onion—many more layers of complexity than Scott or David. On the surface, he is a socially awkward marketing executive who has no friends and no life. He is gawky, clumsy, and completely self-absorbed, but flashes of his inner life, the loneliness, the desperation, and the anger seem to confound our expectations. From the very first scene featuring his long-suffering and infinitely patient wife Tami (Kate Mara), the depth of Craig’s narcissism and social ineptitude is revealed, but for all those deficiencies, his wife and son Steven (Jack Dylan Grazer) still seem to care for him.
When Craig meets his new next-door neighbor Austin (Paul Rudd), the local TV weathermen who actually treats him nicely, his life changes completely. When Austin (a bit of a nerd himself) shows him his prize arrowhead, invites him to see his band, and takes him on a midnight trek in order to break into the basement of city hall (a rather juvenile adventure), Craig is smitten—he has a new friend—his only friend, but when Austin invites him over for a Friday night get-together with some other friends, disaster ensues.
As Craig is desperate to regain Austin’s approval, he begins to stalk him and then attempts to recreate some of their former adventures. This is, of course, all horribly pathetic, and results in Craig’s even deeper ostracism from society. In his efforts to be cool like Austin, his true nature is revealed to Tami, Steven, his co-workers, and neighbors, that he is, and always will be, nothing more than an irreversibly congenital idiot.
As a feature length film, Friendship affords Craig a bit more depth than other cringe protagonists. In moments of deep frustration, he screams and lashes out like a two-year-old having a tantrum. This sort of naked primal rage is not only uncomfortable, it is frightening, leading the viewer to wonder what violence might be brewing in this man. I
There are moments, especially in his early infatuation with Austin, when the film shifts into Craig’s fantasy fugue. In one, he visualizes himself as the drummer in Austin’s band; in another, he stars in a fantasy where he saves Austin and—secondarily—the world. These peeks into the inner psyche of the cringe protagonist are funny but not as cringeworthy as they are simply pathetic. In yet another surprising scene, in an attempt—perhaps—to allay his angst, Craig seeks out a mind-altering drug, which of course turns out to be another disaster.
Craig is a narcissist, but he is also a child. Unlike other cringe protagonists, he does not sail through life generally oblivious to his own social shortcomings. He is aware of what he is and he also, after meeting Austin, another less nerdy nerd, he wants to change. Craig’s tragic flaw is that he knows he is a misanthrope.
Timothy Robinson is brilliant as Craig. His facial expressions, ranging from childlike joy to wide-eyed wonder, are perfect. Paul Rudd’s Austin in appropriately (though only marginally) cool enough to seduce Craig. Kate Mara’s Tami is a bit of a cypher. Why would anyone stay with such a jerk? But, in her patience and level-headedness, she is the perfect straight man for Craig.
Andrew DeYoung has constructed more than a cringe comedy. Friendship is cringeworthy, but it is also an exploration of longing, frustration, and love.
I watched Friendship on a plane and really like it. Upon completion, I immediately felt I should watch it again because it seemed like I must have missed some clues to Craig’s developing psychosis. The ending revealed to me that Craig was not just a supremely self-absorbed nerd, but was actually mentally unwell. I guess I would argue that Craig was not really self-aware at all. Anyway, it’s rare that a comedy has enough depth to warrant an immediate rewatch, not for missed jokes, but for missed character nuance. Friendship is the sort of neither fish-nor-fowl type film that could never have blockbuster potential but should be recommended to more sophisticated film buffs. Thumbs up!
I would like to watch it again to get a better handle on Austin and his crowd. While they were better adjusted than Craig, they were still pretty socially awkward. Sneaking through the sewer just to get into city hall after hours? What are they, twelve years old? I do think Craig (at least on some levels) was self-aware. He knew that he was socially handicapped and tried to better himself, at times to become Austin. I was reminded of that Raymond Carver story “Neighbors” during that scene when he stole the gun. His wife Tami is another cypher. Why is she even with him? You’re right. It needs another viewing.
I didn’t think the sewer escapades were that odd. It’s actually a thing in many cities, clubs that explore sewer systems. Urban spelunkers if you will. Not my bag, but I can see the adventure of it.
Huh. I did not know that. He was in a band, too. I guess he was pretty cool.
Austin was cool yet riven with insecurities himself. The scene where he trips and loses his toupe was priceless. The reaction of both characters to the gaff belongs in the cringe hall of fame!
Yeah, I could see an affinity of ineptitude there….