Friendship (2025) is written & directed by Andrew DeYoung. It stars Tim Robinson, Paul Rudd, Kate Mara, Jack Dylan Grazer, Billy Bryk, Meredith Garretson, Josh Segarra, Rick Worthy, Jacob Ming-Trent, Conner O’Malley, Whitmer Thomas, Daniel London, Eric Rahill. Ari Dalbert, Raphael Sbarge, Omar Torres, and Jason Veasey. The film follows Craig (Robinson), an awkward family man who befriends his new neighbor, Austin (Rudd). The two quickly hit it off, and Austin invites Craig to attend his next “guys night.” Nervous about finally being accepted into a new group, Craig eventually makes a complete fool of himself. This causes Austin to end their friendship, but for Craig, it isn’t that simple. The more Craig pushes, the more Austin pulls away; and the more he pulls away, the more Craig pushes. This obsession sets in motion a slow destruction of Craig’s life, which only amplifies his desire for a platonic connection. As events spiral further out of control, Craig is forced to decide whether to drop his obsession or be consumed by it.

Paul Rudd is well-cast and provides his trademark schtick, but the real star of the show is undoubtedly Tim Robinson. The film is a showcase of his unique brand of comedy – a kind that only he can deliver. So much of what works about his humor is that it’s very attached to the man himself. Very few of the jokes would work if delivered by anyone other than Robinson. For example, I often find that when a character screams for comedic effect, it always feels like a lazy attempt to generate a few cheap laughs. Robinson feels like the one exception. When he screams, it’s not only viscerally funny due to his delivery, but also highlights the absurdity of the film’s many wacky scenarios. Even when a particular joke runs dry on an intellectual level, Robinson’s physicality works to siphon out any last ounce of potential humor. If you’re not quite turned onto this brand of awkward, subversive comedy, the film is sure to be a very strange experience. 

This is a comedy through and through, but it features a twinge of darkness that seeps into each frame. On its surface, this comes across as an attempt at pitch black humor, but ultimately works as a satire of films that attempt such a thing. Hollywood’s obsession with padding its bottom line has created a culture that prioritizes hybrid genre films – the idea being that the potential core audience is immediately doubled. Friendship pretends to be a hybrid genre film, but every time you expect the story to take a dark turn, you’re instead blindsided by yet another hilarious punchline. Like Robinson’s sketch show, I Think You Should Leave, Friendship works as a masterful example of how to manipulate expectation and subversion. 

I don’t find this to be quite funny as something like I Think You Should Leave, but the inclusion of an actual story pretty much balances things out. No matter how silly or cartoonish they may be, the characters elicit a surprising amount of empathy. We want to see Craig find peace no matter how crappy of a guy he is because his struggle, at its core, is a universal one: acceptance. Unlike most comedies, it feels as if the script truly has something to say about the psychological and emotional struggles many men face in the modern day. The modern world rarely pulls its punches when criticizing men, and maybe rightfully so. Unfortunately, this can also breed feelings of isolation – the only solace being healthy fraternal relationships. Friendship presents, in no uncertain terms, just how bad things can get if a man doesn’t have any male friends.

On the other hand, the script also explores the more problematic aspects of male friendship. For example, it subtly draws attention to the male obsession with violence, even in non-combative scenarios. If men, or in this case Craig, would stop to think, they’d probably realize that boxing their new neighbor “for fun” probably isn’t the best way to support a long-lasting friendship. Whether it’s men in general or specifically just Craig, men are presented as their worst selves when they surrender to their animalistic desires. The film’s entire scenario could’ve been avoided if either character had displayed even a semblance of emotional intelligence, acting on logic instead of pure emotion. 

Overall, this is one of the best pure comedies I’ve seen in years, but it also works as an impressive piece of storytelling that’s often disarmingly smart and surprisingly heartfelt. Comedy is easily the most subjective genre, and Robinson’s brand of humor is as niche as it gets, so I expect the film to have a healthy population of naysayers. Other than that, if you’re already a Tim Robinson fan, I can’t imagine you’ll be disappointed. DeYoung and Robinson feel like a match made in comedy heaven, and I can’t wait to see what they do next. B+