If the romantic comedy isn’t dead, it’s doing a very convincing job of playing possum. Setting aside “serious” variations on the genre (like the Oscar bait Silver Linings Playbook) and Woody Allen movies, there hasn’t been a decent mainstream romcom since 2009’s The Proposal – and, gentle readers, 2009 was a long time ago.
With that in mind, think of David Wain’s They Came Together (R, now available on VOD) as a kind of romcom autopsy: With surgical precision, the writer-director dissects the entire genre in much the same brutally funny fashion with which he cut open the carcass of teen sex comedies with his summer-camp parody Wet Hot American Summer (2001). There’s an almost clinical detachment in Wain’s ability to study a clichéd plot device – say, the “meet cute” moment between two crazy kids who are just destined to wind up together – and hold it up under a bright light for some merciless mockery.
Together is the story of Joel and Molly (Paul Rudd, Amy Poehler), two unhappily single people living lonely lives in New York City, a locale that’s virtually a character in the film. (Does that line sound like a cliché unto itself? The characters in the film think so.) Over dinner with another couple, they narrate the story of how they met (cute, of course); how they didn’t get along until a common passion helped them see the light (“You love fiction books? Me too!”); how work and other relationships challenged their happiness; and, finally, how love conquered all.
Wain’s style of humor isn’t for everyone – just ask my wife, who stormed out of the room after 25 minutes, vowing she’d seen the year’s second-worst film – and some of his jokes are deliberately wearying to even those who share his comic tastes. But that’s his point: Like a cinematic intervention, the filmmaker is using those moments to show us the dreck we’ve been swallowing for years. The characters in They Came Together are the butt of his jokes, but he trusts his audience to be in on the gag.
It’s that same penchant for self-mockery that helps 22 Jump Street (R, now in theaters) rise above the low bar set by that other long-suffering subgenre: The comedy sequel. Most Part 2s are bad enough, but resurrecting a comic premise for the simple reason that the first one made money is cold comfort when the results are so frequently forced, humorless endurance tests. Writer-directors Phil Lord and Christopher Miller (The LEGO Movie) understand this, and take every opportunity to have their characters remind us of just how preposterous comic sequels can be. By turning the witty script back onto itself – a rare case of filmic jiu-jitsu – 22 Jump Street will make you believe a sequel can fly.
At the end of 21 Jump Street – an updating of the popular 1980s undercover-cop TV show – not-quite-young-looking Schmidt and Jenko (Jonah Hill, Channing Tatum) have successfully cracked a high school drug ring, and their hard-talking captain (Ice Cube) tells them they’re going to college. 22 keeps that promise, without letting the characters (or the audience) forget how ridiculous it is for these thirtysomethings to be playing teenagers. Along the way Jenko connects with a fraternity, Schmidt with a coed (Amber Stevens), and not much crime-stopping occurs until – wait for it – Spring Break, of course. By the time these implausibly charming cops arrive in Fort Lauderdale for the festivities and the gunplay, Lord and Miller have accomplished the impossible: They’ve made me look forward to 23 Jump Street.
(IMAGES: Paul Rudd and Amy Poehler in They Came Together, courtesy of Lionsgate Films; Jonah Hill and Channing Tatum in 22 Jump Street, courtesy of Sony Pictures.)