This is 40
Where: Cineplex Odeon Victoria, SilverCity
Starring: Paul Rudd, Leslie Mann, Jason Segel
Directed by: Judd Apatow
Parental advisory: 14A, coarse and sexual language, sexually suggestive scenes
Rating: 3 stars out of five
If you don鈥檛 remember Knocked Up, don鈥檛 feel bad. It wasn鈥檛 designed to be memorable. It was designed as laugh-friendly entertainment with a hint of earnest soul, and it succeeded to the tune of $150 million in box-office receipts.
It also cemented Judd Apatow鈥檚 place as a smarter, more sophisticated brand of Adam Sandler because he could conjure humour without gratuitous amounts of cleavage, moronic boy behaviour or poopy pants.
But note the qualifier. He still employs these lowbrow devices; he just refrains from gratuitous quantities because he鈥檚 able to fortify his formula with bona fide emotional notes.
In short, he鈥檚 a pretty good writer who understands the wobbles and wiggles of the human condition, which no doubt explains why the script for This is 40 is being promoted by the studio as an Oscar contender for best original screenplay.
Whether he deserves the prize is moot, because any comedy that features its lead actor sitting on a toilet playing solo Scrabble on his iPad is not a front-runner. The same could be said for a comedy that employs audible flatulence, and yet, for all its infantile detail, This is 40 strikes a decidedly grown-up note.
The key is the central couple: Pete (Paul Rudd) and Debbie (Leslie Mann). First seen in Knocked Up as the established couple with kids, Pete and Debbie were created as a dramatic and comic foil to Seth Rogen and Katherine Heigl. As touchstones for the entire domestic experience, they are undeniably familiar because they look, talk, dress and behave a lot like the rest of us. But all that recognition raises a new problem: 鈥淲ho cares?鈥�
Hollywood has a hard time with 鈥渞eal people鈥� stories and tends to leave such miniatures to the independent film world. This is 40 offers some good insights into why, and it comes down to ego. Like our central male hero Pete, Hollywood believes it is destined to make great, grand and meaningful works of commercial art. But as with Pete, and this movie as a whole, changing circumstance spurs truth.
The plot is straightforward. Pete created a record label out of his own pocket because he鈥檚 a believer in old-fashioned talent: One of the first people he signed is an old folky who used to be a real presence, but has since faded into oblivion as a solo artist. Pete is now bleeding cash and facing bankruptcy, but he鈥檚 too chicken to tell his wife what鈥檚 really happening to their precarious finances.
Meanwhile, Debbie is keeping a secret of her own: She鈥檚 pregnant.
She鈥檚 afraid to let Pete know about the new addition because she knows they鈥檙e already stretched to the financial limit, and half the movie鈥檚 plot is generated through omission. Will she tell Pete, or won鈥檛 she?
There鈥檚 not all that much suspense, mostly because we trust Pete and Debbie鈥檚 loyalty to one another. So even when the eyelashes of infidelity flutter, we鈥檙e pretty sure they鈥檙e solid enough to elude the tendrils of temptation.
Essentially, we鈥檙e watching one very long sketch steeped in observational comedy.
There is nothing artful about Apatow鈥檚 script. It鈥檚 frequently crass and feels irritatingly over-thought as it tries to balance the challenges of marriage with the abstract beauty of being alive and in a loving, secure relationship.
The only redeeming feature is the film鈥檚 human heart 鈥� but even that feels exploited as Apatow tries to explain his whole generation through two highly specific examples.
Affluent and entitled Pete and Debbie are believable, but represent a narrow slice of America鈥檚 demographic pie. If Mann and Rudd weren鈥檛 so warm and comically adept, we could easily reject them as self-absorbed whiners.
