Grade: C-
Good: A few clever observations on modern technology and consumer habits; For the guys: shots of Mila Kunis’ bare backside; For the ladies: shots of Justin Timberlake’s bare backside.
Bad: Slightly detestable leads; a script that thinks it’s cleverer than it actually is; Becomes the same trite romantic comedy cliché it pokes fun at.
Ugly: Gags about going to bathroom during sex. With visuals.
In the 2003, MTV’s True Life, the closest thing the network has ever had to a reality show, featured a special on the “friends with benefits” phenomenon (because casual sex between acquaintances was news to anyone who missed the history lesson on the late 60s and the sexual revolution). In January 2011, pixie-ish Natalie Portman and debatably charming Ashton Kutcher starred in No Strings Attached, a breezy romantic comedy about the highs and lows of a no strings attached relationship. In July 2011, debatably appealing Justin Timberlake and spunky Mila Kunis star in the “were not even trying to be clever with the title anymore” Friends with Benefits, which is exactly what it says on the tin: a breezy romcom about the highs and lows of a friends with benefits relationship. How timely.
Dueling movies is nothing new. Anybody old enough to legally see Friends should remember the late 90s heyday of Armageddon and Deep Impact, released within months of each other in 1998, or Volcano and Dante’s Peak, both released in 1997. Originality, despite their claims to the contrary, has never been the studios’ strong suit, and that’s fine. The real issue is does the audience want or need these double doses. Sadly, it doesn’t matter; they’re getting them anyway, and with no marked improvement or originality in sight.
Friends with Benefits is qualitatively no better or worse than No Strings Attached. It is a middling romcom that thinks it’s much smarter than it actually is. Friends brings together Justin Timberlake’s cocky—in a shocking case of casting against type—Dylan Harper, a new media wunderkind from the West Coast who runs a gossip blog and is up for a job as Art Director at GQ. Seriously. Mila Kunis—falling into a pattern of playing herself in everything like a real movie star should—plays the brassy Jamie Relis, a stereotypical tough city girl from New York who makes her living as an executive headhunter. Ignoring the fact that neither seems “seasoned” enough for either position, Jamie brings Dylan to GQ and sells him on taking the job and moving to the “Greatest City in the World” under the pretense that she’ll get a bonus if he stays at GQ for a year. After Dylan takes the job, Jamie recognizes his potential loneliness and offers herself as his guide to the city, complete with a whirlwind tour of Manhattan and Brooklyn—those other boroughs don’t count anymore. With both reeling from recently failed relationships and clearly physically, if not emotionally (yet), attracted to each other, they agree to engage in a no strings attached—see how that works—sexual relationship sans emotion, despite their growing friendship. As they navigate the emotional, and occasional physical, pitfalls of this “relationship”, they uncover the reasons behind each other’s emotional issues and learn about the power of true love. No joke.
It’s hard to watch this movie without rolling one’s eyes into the back of one’s skull. From the overwritten, overeager leads who spend so much time poking fun at romcom conventions that the irony becomes thicker than molasses to the late-in the game attempts at sentimentality, Friends is exactly what it thinks it isn’t: a stereotypical romantic comedy, albeit with three or four extended sex scenes that fall just below the softcore threshold. A movie like this is built on, at bare minimum, the chemistry and likability of its leads. While there’s little debate about the undeniable chemistry, the likability of the leads, despite Director Will Gluck’s best efforts, is questionable at best.
Justin Timberlake continues to play characters who I’m sure he believes are lovable, charismatic jerks. One out of three ain’t bad… Clearly still in Sean Parker mode, Timberlake’s Dylan is kind of a douche with severe intimacy issues. Unfortunately for Dylan, the only reason to empathize with him is because the script says so. He’s not particularly nice or self-effacing. He’s the shit and he knows it, which makes for a terrible way to connect with audiences, especially in this kind of movie. Kunis’ Jamie, on the other hand, is a walking cliché. She’s the tough New Yorker with a wounded heart of gold. Apparently, in 2011, this is a radical concept. Kunis’ typical quick wit and brash abandon keep the character from being too grating, but she’s such a walking billboard for New Yorkahs that she might cease to exist when she’s more than ten miles west of the Hudson.
As usual, the leads are backed by varying degrees of goofy and schmaltzy sidekicks and family members who press them to make a more traditional commitment. Woody Harrelson plays up his effete gentleman angle as the flaming sports editor at GQ—more clever irony—who acts as the devil on Dylan’s shoulder. Patricia Clarkson delivers another retread of the loopy middle-ager as Jamie’s aging love child mother, who couldn’t identify Jamie’s biological father if she tried, serving as both part of the reason for Jamie’s issues and a motivator urging Jamie to pursue true love. Jenna Elfman brings a better balance of sentimentality and humor as Dylan’s sister who takes of care their Alzheimer afflicted father (Richard Jenkins) while Nolan Gould, of Modern Family fame, brings his absent-minded Luke persona for the big screen. By the way, apparently the only people of color in New York or L.A. are cab drivers, flash mobbers and a random Amazon executive.
Director Will Gluck, best known for the slightly above average teen comedy Easy A, must have filmed Friends with a dirt brown filter—either that or the theater holding the screening desperately needs new bulbs in the projector—because this movie is darker than a post converted 3D cash grab. Everything is muddy and muted, even on sunny days. Maybe this is a jab at the overproduced quality of most romcoms, but that’s no excuse. While the clear appeal of a flick like this is to see attractive movie stars get naked and hookup, the sex scenes can become a bit uncomfortable. This isn’t because of the act itself, but rather because they’re repetitive and long. Honestly, by the fourth scene, the audience gets the point. I realize that this is essentially a sex comedy, but two or three scenes would have done the trick. Five is petitioning for a slot on Cinemax’s late night schedule.
Friends is not without a few clever gags here and there, including some smart shots at iPad functionality and book buying habits of the American consumer. Overall, Friends is too impressed with itself for being resistant to the very same clichés it slaves to. If this movie were made seven years ago with a less of an agenda against romantic comedies and some likeable leads, it would have been mildly entertaining. As it is, it’s maybe worth a rental down the line when a pair of friends are killing time until they cash in their benefits.
Good: A few clever observations on modern technology and consumer habits; For the guys: shots of Mila Kunis’ bare backside; For the ladies: shots of Justin Timberlake’s bare backside.
Bad: Slightly detestable leads; a script that thinks it’s cleverer than it actually is; Becomes the same trite romantic comedy cliché it pokes fun at.
Ugly: Gags about going to bathroom during sex. With visuals.
In the 2003, MTV’s True Life, the closest thing the network has ever had to a reality show, featured a special on the “friends with benefits” phenomenon (because casual sex between acquaintances was news to anyone who missed the history lesson on the late 60s and the sexual revolution). In January 2011, pixie-ish Natalie Portman and debatably charming Ashton Kutcher starred in No Strings Attached, a breezy romantic comedy about the highs and lows of a no strings attached relationship. In July 2011, debatably appealing Justin Timberlake and spunky Mila Kunis star in the “were not even trying to be clever with the title anymore” Friends with Benefits, which is exactly what it says on the tin: a breezy romcom about the highs and lows of a friends with benefits relationship. How timely.
Dueling movies is nothing new. Anybody old enough to legally see Friends should remember the late 90s heyday of Armageddon and Deep Impact, released within months of each other in 1998, or Volcano and Dante’s Peak, both released in 1997. Originality, despite their claims to the contrary, has never been the studios’ strong suit, and that’s fine. The real issue is does the audience want or need these double doses. Sadly, it doesn’t matter; they’re getting them anyway, and with no marked improvement or originality in sight.
Friends with Benefits is qualitatively no better or worse than No Strings Attached. It is a middling romcom that thinks it’s much smarter than it actually is. Friends brings together Justin Timberlake’s cocky—in a shocking case of casting against type—Dylan Harper, a new media wunderkind from the West Coast who runs a gossip blog and is up for a job as Art Director at GQ. Seriously. Mila Kunis—falling into a pattern of playing herself in everything like a real movie star should—plays the brassy Jamie Relis, a stereotypical tough city girl from New York who makes her living as an executive headhunter. Ignoring the fact that neither seems “seasoned” enough for either position, Jamie brings Dylan to GQ and sells him on taking the job and moving to the “Greatest City in the World” under the pretense that she’ll get a bonus if he stays at GQ for a year. After Dylan takes the job, Jamie recognizes his potential loneliness and offers herself as his guide to the city, complete with a whirlwind tour of Manhattan and Brooklyn—those other boroughs don’t count anymore. With both reeling from recently failed relationships and clearly physically, if not emotionally (yet), attracted to each other, they agree to engage in a no strings attached—see how that works—sexual relationship sans emotion, despite their growing friendship. As they navigate the emotional, and occasional physical, pitfalls of this “relationship”, they uncover the reasons behind each other’s emotional issues and learn about the power of true love. No joke.
It’s hard to watch this movie without rolling one’s eyes into the back of one’s skull. From the overwritten, overeager leads who spend so much time poking fun at romcom conventions that the irony becomes thicker than molasses to the late-in the game attempts at sentimentality, Friends is exactly what it thinks it isn’t: a stereotypical romantic comedy, albeit with three or four extended sex scenes that fall just below the softcore threshold. A movie like this is built on, at bare minimum, the chemistry and likability of its leads. While there’s little debate about the undeniable chemistry, the likability of the leads, despite Director Will Gluck’s best efforts, is questionable at best.
Justin Timberlake continues to play characters who I’m sure he believes are lovable, charismatic jerks. One out of three ain’t bad… Clearly still in Sean Parker mode, Timberlake’s Dylan is kind of a douche with severe intimacy issues. Unfortunately for Dylan, the only reason to empathize with him is because the script says so. He’s not particularly nice or self-effacing. He’s the shit and he knows it, which makes for a terrible way to connect with audiences, especially in this kind of movie. Kunis’ Jamie, on the other hand, is a walking cliché. She’s the tough New Yorker with a wounded heart of gold. Apparently, in 2011, this is a radical concept. Kunis’ typical quick wit and brash abandon keep the character from being too grating, but she’s such a walking billboard for New Yorkahs that she might cease to exist when she’s more than ten miles west of the Hudson.
As usual, the leads are backed by varying degrees of goofy and schmaltzy sidekicks and family members who press them to make a more traditional commitment. Woody Harrelson plays up his effete gentleman angle as the flaming sports editor at GQ—more clever irony—who acts as the devil on Dylan’s shoulder. Patricia Clarkson delivers another retread of the loopy middle-ager as Jamie’s aging love child mother, who couldn’t identify Jamie’s biological father if she tried, serving as both part of the reason for Jamie’s issues and a motivator urging Jamie to pursue true love. Jenna Elfman brings a better balance of sentimentality and humor as Dylan’s sister who takes of care their Alzheimer afflicted father (Richard Jenkins) while Nolan Gould, of Modern Family fame, brings his absent-minded Luke persona for the big screen. By the way, apparently the only people of color in New York or L.A. are cab drivers, flash mobbers and a random Amazon executive.
Director Will Gluck, best known for the slightly above average teen comedy Easy A, must have filmed Friends with a dirt brown filter—either that or the theater holding the screening desperately needs new bulbs in the projector—because this movie is darker than a post converted 3D cash grab. Everything is muddy and muted, even on sunny days. Maybe this is a jab at the overproduced quality of most romcoms, but that’s no excuse. While the clear appeal of a flick like this is to see attractive movie stars get naked and hookup, the sex scenes can become a bit uncomfortable. This isn’t because of the act itself, but rather because they’re repetitive and long. Honestly, by the fourth scene, the audience gets the point. I realize that this is essentially a sex comedy, but two or three scenes would have done the trick. Five is petitioning for a slot on Cinemax’s late night schedule.
Friends is not without a few clever gags here and there, including some smart shots at iPad functionality and book buying habits of the American consumer. Overall, Friends is too impressed with itself for being resistant to the very same clichés it slaves to. If this movie were made seven years ago with a less of an agenda against romantic comedies and some likeable leads, it would have been mildly entertaining. As it is, it’s maybe worth a rental down the line when a pair of friends are killing time until they cash in their benefits.
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