12inchpetetreat

The place where pizza comes to be written about

Movie And A Pizza #2: Funny People, accompanied by a Co-Op margherita with king prawns and garlic

It's those fat people watching the telly again

Normally, the events described herein would take place on a Thursday night, but I was bored and I’m going to be busy on Thursday. And so this week’s Pizza And A Movie features Funny People, and a concoction of my sort-of own creation.

Look at their faces. Look at their naked contempt for YOU.

Funny People. Funny. People. If ever there was a misleading movie title, this was it, because the people in this film are neither funny, nor belonging to the same species as you or I, dear blog reader. Seriously, what a bunch of motherless fucks. And what a freshly-coiled, piping hot turd of utter self-indulgence and cringing self-pity, a film by comedians, about comedians and how brilliant and deep and soulful they are, for comedians, stuffed full of punchable cameos by comedians, and above all, bad stand-up, which proves that stand-up comedy, like football, does not translate into the cinematic medium without suffering.

Adam Sandler plays a former stand-up who has become an enormous film star making terrible movies – quite a leap for him, as has, I’m sure, been noted a squillion times before – who discovers he is dying. Seth Rogan plays a struggling stand-up that Sandler adopts as his gopher / life coach / co-writer, and spends most of the film either being unamusing on stage or wearing the stunned impression of a stoned lemur as he tries to take in the enormity of the emotional maelstrom (or rather, “massed intertwining neuroses of a bunch of twats”) in which he is the centre. Jason Schwartzman plays a whiny self-obsessed cock. Jonah Hill plays everybody Jonah Hill has ever played. Leslie Mann (aka “The Living Embodiment Of Director’s Wife Syndrome”) plays everybody Leslie Mann has ever played, which means that she is instantly dislikeable, since she seems to be the go-to girl whenever prissy, pinch-faced entitlement needs to be essayed on film. Somebody called Aubrey Plaza – that’s her on the far right of the poster, communicating her depth and complexity by not looking at the camera – plays a stand-up comedienne so bad that she actually seems to possess the ability to force laughter back down people’s throats to be broken down by the body’s digestive acids, providing a strange kind of nourishment with her palpable, solid boluses of non-humour. Eric Bana, the only half-decent character on show, plays the guy we’re apparently supposed to root against. And the likes of Andy Dick, Paul Reiser, Norm MacDonald and Sarah Silverman show up to take an irritating – indeed, in Silverman’s case, more irritating than all of the pubic lice in the entire world descending on one’s genitals at once for some kind of pubic lice convention weekend – bow. At one point, Eminem shouts abuse at Ray Romano across a crowded restaurant – why not go the whole hog, director Judd Apatow, and release a film in which you simply read out the names and numbers that you have on your mobile phone? Truly, Funny People is an astounding folly, a monolithically misguided vanity project, and above all, most unforgivably, the jokes are all shit, plus I’m pretty sure that, in terminal disease movies, the viewer is not supposed to hope against hope that the sick dude dies, but not before infecting everybody else with whatever it is that’s killing him. A film by twats, about twats, for twats.

Look at me! Look at how delicious I am!

Still, my pizza was chuffing ace (I’ve decided to stop swearing now) – there it is, up there, shortly before my complete devouring of it. I decided to forego the local delivery firms (there’s a branch of Papa John’s so near to my home that, factoring in the clever positioning of a couple of mirrors, I could actually spy on it if I wanted) and so picked up a Truly Irrestistible margherita pizza from Co-Op, added some king prawns (they were on special offer) and then brushed it with some leftover garlic dip for the aforementioned Papa John. And the end result was spectacular! Fat, juicy prawns (and yet they didn’t start bubbling and letting off liquid that made the pizza go floppy like they normally do), a little bit of nibble from the green pesto that Co-Op put on their fancy margheritas, THAT unmistakeable Papa John’s garlic dip taste and above all, it kept its shape rather than flopping and sending prawns and liquid cheese everywhere. I gave it 11 minutes rather than the suggested 8-10 and that made all the difference, I feel. And all washed down with a bottle of Petit Verdot, which also helped me forget the awful film I was watching.

THE VERDICT

THE FILM: I didn’t like it. You may have picked up on that. 0/10

THE PIZZA: An unexpected delight, tempered only by the fact that Rosie wouldn’t like it. 8/10

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Filed under: Movie And A Pizza

2 Responses

  1. herrdaubs says:

    I once reviewed this film and summed it up thus: “Funny People: about as funny to normal people as a fart at a funeral”. Good pizza tips, mind.

  2. I feel like I have arrived rather late with the hate on this one, Daubs.

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