A Fine Bromance

THERE ARE THREE pubic hair jokes within the first five
minutes of I Love You, Man. There is also a conversation about
oral sex and a reference to a masturbation saddle for women, the name
of which I just spent a fruitless 20 minutes looking up on the
internet. (Note: Not recommended. Clear browser history.) It seems
strange to describe such a vulgar, expletive-dense comedy as
“inoffensive,” but then, it’s impossible to imagine a more harmless
flick than I Love You, Man, an affable new comedy about love,
friendship, and Lou Ferrigno.

Real estate agent Peter (Paul Rudd) has always been a “girlfriend
guy,” and his fiancée Zooey (The Office‘s smokin’ hot
Rashida Jones) is concerned that unless he finds some friends of his
own, he’ll make for a needy, clingy husband—plus, they need a
best man at the wedding. Dutifully, Peter enlists the help of his gay
brother Robbie (Andy Samburg, whose performance here can best be
described as awesome), and sets out to find The One.

Peter goes on a series of bad friend-dates, which manage to be funny
while avoiding any trace of condescension or homophobia (Chuck and
Larry this is not). Eventually, he finds his soul mate in Sydney
Fife (Jason Segel), a puggle-owning, scooter-riding beach bum who’s
converted his garage into a no-girls-allowed clubhouse, complete with a
lotion-stocked masturbation station. The two meet when Peter hosts an
open house at Lou Ferrigno’s house, which he’s trying to sell; Sydney
shows up prowling for free food and divorcées, and the two
become fast friends.

As Sydney coaches Peter in the ways of male friendship, tensions
develop on the homefront—but even this movie’s tension isn’t
terribly stressful. This is thanks in large part to Rudd, who has been
funnier than he is here, but never more likeable. Peter is overeager
and goofy, prone to bursting out with dorky catchphrases (“Totes
magotes!”) then lapsing into appealing bemusement at his own silliness.
It’s easy to see why Zooey likes him so much, and it’s refreshing to
see a relationship depicted so realistically (the devastating hotness
of both Rudd and Jones notwithstanding).

In that regard, I Love You, Man is very much a post-Judd
Apatow comedy: It can’t compete with Knocked Up or The
40-Year-Old Virgin on a laughs-per-scene basis, but its characters
are similarly complex. (When Zooey gets angry with Peter for telling
Sydney details about their sex life, Peter reminds her that every
girls’ night ever consists of just such dishing—for a romcom,
it’s an unexpectedly measured conversation.)

Sure, there are valid criticisms—in the early stages of Peter
and Sydney’s bro bonding, there were about 10 minutes where I was
convinced the film was going to turn into some sort of New
Warriors/unleashing-your-inner-caveman bullshit. But the embarrassing
“barbaric yawp” scene was merely one of several moments where the movie
hinted at the tacky, cheesy direction it could have
taken—and then quickly righted itself, proceeding on course as an
affable, goodhearted film that’s impossible not to like.