The Classic Story of Boy Meets Ira

This is the first entry in a dialogue about the films of Judd Apatow and the state of the romantic comedy among Double X Managing Editor Jessica Grose, Slate critic Troy Patterson, and Variety contributor Lael Loewenstein.

Hi Troy and Lael,

Judd Apatow has produced almost a dozen comedies in the past five years. We’re here to talk about the three he wrote and directed: Funny People, which premieres on Friday, along with its bawdy, bro-loving precursors: The 40-Year-Old Virgin [2] from 2005 and Knocked Up [3] from 2007. Both of the older movies were on TV Sunday night, leading me to an addendum to the Caine-Hackman Theory [4]: At all times, there is a 100 percent statistical probability that a Judd Apatow-produced movie will be on cable.

Each of the three points in Apatow’s box-office bursting crown is a romantic comedy told from the male point of view. And as New York Times [5]film critic Manohla Dargis [5] puts it, each stars “a funny, smutty but sincere man-boy puzzling [his] way through adult heterosexual relations.”

She’s right—the man-boys of the Apatow universe are immature in a profound way. In The 40-Year-Old Virgin, Steve Carrell’s character still plays with action figures. In Knocked Up, Seth Rogen’s anti-hero is a mostly unemployed stoner. And now, in Funny People, Adam Sandler plays a wildly successful comedian who still dresses like a teenage boy and eats popsicles after banging groupies. In a movie within the movie, Sandler also plays a man who has been transformed into a baby, his gargantuan melon digitally attached to an infant’s body: a literal depiction of his inability to grow up.

Sandler’s character, 40-year-old George Simmons, has an existential crisis when he realizes that he is sick with a rare form of Leukemia. His choice in the face of this terrifying discovery won’t surprise anyone familiar with the Apatow oeuvre: Simmons befriends a much-younger struggling stand-up comic named Ira Wright, played by Rogen. In typical Apatow fashion, the homosocial love affair, or “bromance,” between George and Ira becomes the central relationship of the movie. Never mind that it has been marketed as a heterosexual romantic comedy; it’s their story line that follows the familiar romantic comedy arc: boy meets Ira, boy loses Ira, boy gets Ira.

If you agree with Katherine Heigl, who called Knocked Up “a little bit sexist [6]” in Vanity Fair, you might see this relationship as a natural progression for Apatow, since his previous films left women increasingly on the sidelines. Double X founding editor Meghan O’Rourke wrote of the female leads [7] in Knocked Up (played by Heigl and Apatow’s real-life wife, Leslie Mann), “It's as if women's inner worlds are entirely functional rather than playful and open.” This also holds true for the more fully fleshed-out character played by Catherine Keener in the 40-Year-Old Virgin. All three of these women are the enforcers of commitment and domesticity, and it is their job to corral the unruly boys, who get to have all the fun on-screen.

But here’s where Funny People intriguingly deviates from the Apatow script: Ira, possibly the sweetest, kindest character to ever tell a litany of dick jokes, falls into the “female” role of moral arbiter. When Ira realizes that he is the only one who knows about George’s illness, he tearfully encourages George to tell his family and friends. When George is trying to sleep with a married woman, Ira begs him to reconsider. And in the end, George’s inveterate womanizing and all-around-selfish jerkdom is not redeemed by the love of a good woman, as the usual rom-com arc demands. He’s instead redeemed by being a good friend to Ira. That’s my theory, anyway. Troy and Lael, what do you think?

I suppose one could argue that Ira is just a stand-in for the women of Apatow world, diminishing the significance of Ira and George’s unique bond. But this is complicated by the presence of a flesh-and-blood female: Laura, played by Mann. Laura is George Simmons’ ex-girlfriend, “the one who got away.” She does not come into the film until the second half, and when she arrives, the film turns into an entirely different movie. Its focus shifts from George grappling with his illness and friendship with Ira to George trying to woo Laura away from her husband, a surprisingly funny Eric Bana.

The plot turn feels so disjointed to me that I want to ask you both: What narrative purpose do you think Laura serves in this film? Is she just filling in the blank for the obligatory love interest? The only choices you see her making are ones that involve men and sex. One theory about Laura’s relevance to the film: Much has been made of Apatow’s deeply conservative streak. As Stephen Rodrick put it in a 2007 New York Times Magazine [8] profile of Apatow [8], the director offers up “the kind of conservative morals the Family Research Council might embrace—if the humor weren't so filthy.” Perhaps Laura is a family values cipher, a nod to the importance of long-term heterosexual commitment.

Troy, since you’re up next, what do you think? From the dude perspective, do you agree with Heigl—are the Apatow comedies in fact “a little bit sexist”? Lael, I hope you’ll weigh in about that as well, and I how you felt about yet another character: Ira’s love interest, a fellow comic named Daisy. What did you make of her?

Looking forward to our trip through the land of fart jokes and wedding bells.

Best,
Jessica

Read Troy Patterson's response here [9].