Monday, April 28, 2008

No chest waxing, true. But c'mon ... penis?: "Forgetting Sarah Marshall"

Yeah, you need to know these things going in. Much like it was unnecessary in "Walk Hard," Judd Apatow again insists on showing us a flaccid member. I mean, it's right there. Dude, what's with the dude?

You know the rule: No movie that shows dick can get more than three stars. Sorry, too bad. Not that this comedy was going to get four, but it definitely earned its max of three. A little surprising since I thought the trailer looked mediocre at best. Then again, I remember seeing the poster for "The 40-Year-Old Virgin" and thinking that was the worst idea ever for a movie. It remains my favorite of the Apatow Collection, and "Forgetting Sarah Marshall" gets the silver. Yes, better than "Superbad."

Our story centers on Peter (Jason Segel), a mope who does music for a CSI-type show and happens to be dating its hot star (Kristen Bell). Until he isn't, thanks to her breaking up with him. Devastated, he ends up in Hawaii ... at the same resort where his ex and her new boyfriend, a British rock star (the hilarious Russell Brand), are staying. Not cool.

Fortunately, there's some comic relief in the form a gay restaurant host (Jonah Hill) and a half-stoned surf instructor (Paul Rudd! Yes!), not to mention a square honeymooning couple and assorted fat dudes. More importantly for Peter, there's a hot desk clerk (Mila Kunis), whom you may remember as Jackie from "That '70s Show."

This presents a fundamental flaw that also took some of the steam out of an otherwise highly entertaining movie that came out a decade earlier, "Swingers." I'm speaking of the "Guy breaks up with a girl, then ends up with a super-hot girl." Yeah, that's how it works. In real life, Jon Favreau gets Heather Graham. And Jason Segel gets Mila Kunis. That's it, honey! I'm outta here. I mean, Charlize Theron is right around the corner.

Despite this problem and Segel showing his unit earlier on -- he's just out of the shower when his girlfriend dumps him -- "Marshall" delivers the goods. First, there are plenty of funny bits. Every scene with Rudd, of course. And Brand as the pitch-perfect rock star/lothario. And Hill as his groupie. All these guys nail their roles. The movie also gives us great send-ups of the CSI ilk on the front and back ends. (Don't leave when the closing credits start.)

Even better: Each of the four people in the two couples really come off as real people. In movies like this, it's so easy to spend time on the main guy and have the other three -- the new love interest, the ex and especially her boyfriend -- be one-dimensional types. Nice work here to avoid that.

Not saying Bell, Brand and Kunis -- or for that matter, Segel -- are channeling Brando and Streep. But they do a nice job fleshing out their roles, and the movie gives them time to do so while staying at a reasonable length. Bell isn't a callous shrew. Brand isn't a total jerk (but is a freakin' riot. Seriously.) Kunis isn't just a sweet little thing falling into our hero's arms.

It's quite impressive when you think about it, and despite all the funny-funny, that's what stuck with me afterward. Even if it hadn't, consider this: It's almost impossible to dislike any movie that gives you a rock opera about Dracula ... performed by puppets. Take that, "Team America."

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