‘Friendship’ triggered all of my social anxieties
A24’s Tim Robinson vehicle is a very funny, deeply uncomfortable ride.
A meme circulated a few years ago quipping that Jesus’ biggest miracle was having 12 friends at age 30. It’s a joke that’s funny, as Homer Simpson might say, because it’s true. For many adults, friendship proves elusive, to the point where psychologists have coined the term “Loneliness Epidemic” to describe the plight.
It’s a particular struggle to cultivate and maintain relationships in middle age. Life is busy, we all have responsibilities, and how do you build trust and rapport with other busy people, who already have their own routines and networks ? A friend of mine (yes, I do have some!) recently told me about his son’s soccer coach, who just adopted the mentality of a child – going up and asking someone “do you want to be my friend?” There are worse approaches.
I’ve written before about my struggles with social anxiety, which only exacerbates the issue. For decades, I just assumed I was an introvert. But I like people; I’m energized by being around them. Yet something inside locks up whenever I’m in a social situation, particularly with a new group. It’s hard to explain why. It’s not simply fear that people won’t like me. It’s a fear that I can’t simply be. That when I interact, my words will bounce off them, my jokes will be met with awkward silence, my body will somehow betray me. As I’ve told my therapist, there’s often the fear that I’m just not “doing it right” – “doing it” meaning just hanging with others and being a human being1. I’ve half-joked with my wife that all the anxiety and stress that came with dating has now just shifted into creating platonic friendships – how do you ask someone to hang out, what if they say no, how do you know they like hanging with you2?
I’ve rarely seen this internal fear manifested as well and with such excruciating discomfort as it is in Andrew DeYoung’s Friendship. A very funny bit of cringe comedy starring Tim Robinson and Paul Rudd, it makes me feel seen in a way I almost wish it didn’t.
Robinson plays a milquetoast associate at a social media company (his team tries to make apps more addictive). He’s a bit bland – he buys all his clothes from a company called Ocean View Dining (they also sell food) and doesn’t have much of a social life aside from trying to convince his wife, Tami, and their son to go see the latest Marvel movie (“they say it’s nuts”). That changes when he meets Austin (Rudd), a local weatherman who seems to have it all: he’s charming, plays in a band, knows how to navigate the town’s sewers and collects ancient hatchets3. But when Craig embarrasses himself while hanging out, Austin decides he doesn’t want to continue the friendship. Craig, of course, does not take this like a normal human being, and the resulting confusion and awkwardness pretty much ruin his relationships.
Robinson is the star of the Netflix sketch comedy show I Think You Should Leave, in which he nearly always plays a character who can’t interact with others and stubbornly refuses to back down, taking the premise past the point of rationality into the realm of the surreal. The show’s three seasons are among the funniest TV of the last 20 years. It’s cringe comedy told in bite-sized morsels; most of the sketches don’t last more than five minutes and episodes come in under 20 minutes.
Many have described Friendship as a 90-minute I Think You Should Leave sketch, which is completely accurate. Writer-director DeYoung never helmed an episode of the show, but his vibe is completely in sync with Robinson’s sense of wildly uncomfortable, absurd humor. Craig could very easily be an I Think You Should Leave sketch protagonist; he’s so clueless about normal human interactions, social cues and reading the room that the most unbelievable part of the movie might be that he has a wife and teenage son. Of course, his wife – a cancer survivor for reasons that are never explored – prefers to hang out with her firefighter ex-boyfriend and his son is too stressed about maintaining two girlfriends, so it’s no wonder Craig’s a bit lonely.
It’s easy to read the above paragraphs and consider Friendship a wacky but sweet-hearted story of male relationships, not too far removed from Rudd’s own I Love You, Man. But those expecting a raucous romp might be surprised at the darkness that tinges it. This is very much an A24 movie, and DeYoung leans into the studio’s murky aesthetic and unsettling atmosphere. That’s not to imply that the film isn’t funny – I laughed hard multiple times, and I imagine this is going to be one of the most quotable movies in a long time4 — but it simultaneously steers hard into discomfort. Think The Cable Guy, if Ben Stiller had really let it be the dark comedy he intended. There’s a sequence early on where Craig embarrasses himself in front of a group; for some, the awkwardness will be too much. But others will equally shield their eyes and laugh as Craig tries to cover up his faux pas by stuffing soap in his mouth and saying “I was a bad boy,” and the film will quickly become a favorite for that crowd.
Friendship doesn’t quite work as a straight-on narrative. There are many, many plot points brought up and never followed up on again – not only Tami’s cancer, but why Austin collects hatchets, why Craig randomly gets nosebleeds, and the reason Craig’s family perpetually has their house up for sale. There’s a subplot involving Craig working alongside the town’s mayor that seems important until it isn’t. The script is, instead, almost a series of sketches detailing Craig’s mounting anxiety and letting him further spiral out of control, to the point where each of his relationships begins to disintegrate.
Friendship is better approached as a demented character piece. It gets into Craig’s mind, occasionally cutting away for dream sequences where we view his hopes for a life with pals (“I’m on the edge of life and the view is glorious”). If my life is fairly normal but I’m plagued with constant anxiety about how I fit in and what might happen, Craig’s is the inverse. He can only dream of jamming with the band or being accepted by his bros; for him, the social failures and disconnect are the reality, and the harder he tries just to hang or adopt some of Austin’s adventurousness, the worse his life becomes. Robinson, as he is in his other works, is unconcerned with keeping viewers comfortable, and leans into Craig’s strangeness and, at times, unlikability. And while this is uproarious in a five-minute Netflix sketch, at 90 minutes, there’s a sadness that I found hard to shake. Like I said, I laughed a lot – this film has what might be the funniest payoff to a drug trip I’ve seen – but I also found myself squirming and tense as watching Craig’s life spiral out brought each of my own anxieties about connecting with others and my own awkwardness.
Rudd is also really funny, leaning into his douchier side and presenting Austin as a curdled version of his Anchorman character. He’s in no way playing the role straight. Austin has his own struggles and insecurities, but he’s able to cover it up better and act around it than Craig5. Kate Mara largely deadpans it as Tami, and while she does what the role requires, I wish the movie might have delved in a bit deeper to her own struggles and frustrations, both with life after cancer and having to serve as a spouse to Craig.
It’s not hard to imagine that Friendship will fairly quickly become a beloved cult comedy. Robinson already has a devoted fan base thanks to the underrated Detroiters and the meme vault that is I Think You Should Leave, and the film’s sense of humor should satisfy them. I think anyone who goes in expecting simply silliness will be taken aback by its darker tone and its weird plot digressions – it’s very hard to predict where this movie’s going most the time, although its ultimate destination makes perfect sense. But for those on its wavelength, it works. It’s not always a likable movie, but I’m happy to have made its acquaintance.
Therapy helps, as does anti-anxiety medications and, occasionally, alcohol. And I should note that while this used to be debilitating, it no longer is, especially when I have taken the time to get to know others.
Again, yes, I’m in therapy.
This is a weird movie.
Can I just say how happy I was to see this in a theater? That feeling of laughing in a crowded room has been missed.
Friendship would make an interesting companion piece with Nathan Fielder’s HBO series The Rehearsal, which is also obsessed with social anxiety and awkwardness.