Just Friends

(yan Reynolds as “Chris Brander” and Amy Smart as “Jamie Palamino” in New Line Cinema’s JUST FRIENDS.
Photo Credit: ©2005 Alan Markfield/New Line Productions

 
Chris Brander (Ryan Reynolds) is an overweight, sensitive and genuinely caring kind of guy… or was, rather. In 1995, during his senior year, Chris (who is overweight and must wear the dreaded, heinous dental retainer) finally works up the courage (sort of) to finally reveal to his long-time friend, Jamie Palomino (Amy Smart) that he’s in love with her.

He writes her a card, “Dear Jamie, I feel like we’re not just in high school, but like we’re in our own Chris and Jamie world.” Chris takes the card to a high school graduation party where he intends to share his true feelings. Of course, as is easily recognized by any guy whose coolness in high school was inversely proportional to their popularity (being well-known and not well-liked), Chris has just signed his own permanent transfer to the “Friend Zone.”

As many comedies rely on a misunderstanding as the catalyst for irony, the disparity between Chris’ and Jamie’s perceptions is totally innocent. Yet that matters little to Chris when the final blows are dealt as she gives him an “adorable” shirt (think greeting card platitudes, only less insipid) that reads “Friends furr-ever,” and somehow his Yearbook, which he’s brought for her to sign, has been swapped with another.

Just as Jamie tells him, “I love you… like a brother,” Chris overhears someone reading musings from his yearbook that reveal his innermost thoughts about Jamie. At that time in a kid’s life, this can be a defining moment that affects them at least for a few years, until they come to terms with it or get past it. As we see in this film, Chris moves past it… but it catches up with him, anyway.

Ten years later, in Los Angeles, we find Chris has shed his weight and now has a job as an A&R executive at a hot record label and plays hockey in his spare time. Athletic and coordinated, he’s the opposite of his former self. He mingles at bars just to blow women off, which is an obvious sign of some lingering insecurities from high school days. Nonetheless, I like the way the film establishes it through his character, as opposed to overt exposition. Note the double-layered humor as Chris slightly spits up his martini when a vapid girl standing next to him at the bar says, “I don’t know why you don’t take me serious (sic).”

Anna Faris plays Samantha James, a talentless pop star who’s a cross between Ashlee Simpson, Britney Spears, Paris Hilton and Courtney Love. As far as she’s concerned, she’s still dating Chris. Her record label can’t stand her any more and wants to dump her on Chris. His label’s boss, KC (Stephen Root) insists that they pick her up because of her already-immense success. As circumstance would have it, or should we say a freak microwave accident caused by (surprise!) Samantha, their plane has to make an emergency landing in (surprise again!) New Jersey.

It’s obvious that Samantha will clash with the simpler townspeople, including Chris’ folksy if neurotically-happy mother who, by the way, managed to keep Chris’ room in original high-school condition but somehow threw out his beloved hockey skates (if only to necessitate the silly subplot where he gets beaten at hockey by the local kids whom Jamie substitute teaches). It’s also obvious that Chris will initially attempt to use this opportunity to get back at Jamie for being blown-off in high school, only to realize that all he wants is to be with her. Lucky for Chris, Jamie just happens to be working at the local bar instead of having taken off to work or study anywhere else in the 48 contiguous states.

It’s only a little less obvious that Dusty (Chris Klein), the proverbial acne-speckled guitar nerd in high school has cleaned up well (his acne, anyway) and turned into the town’s Casanova—girls and parents alike fall for his shtick. Of course, his brother, Mike (Christopher Marquette) who used to pick on him for being fat will now receive the beatings. And, naturally, the high school jock who embarrassed Chris at the graduation party is fat, balding and going nowhere. I’ll give the last point here a pass because, well, the popular ones often peak early in life.

Chris’ plans for revenge are stymied now that he has competition from Dusty… if one can call it that. What I like about this role is that I could never buy Chris Klein as the nice guy. Something in his face and his voice scream “sleazy bastard”. By contrast, Ryan Reynolds talent for sardonic wit (see the gag reel on the “Blade: Trinity” DVD… worth more than the movie itself) wouldn’t fit if his character were genuinely a jerk. Unlike Dusty, Chris is only trying to be one.

While the film is rife with “homecoming” cliches, including the asshole father—Jamie’s—with the obnoxiously loud Christmas display, what makes it work is the absurdist humor (though nowhere near the level of mastery of Stephen Chow) and slapstick of Ryan Reynolds and Anna Faris. Samantha, aside from being the world’s worst songwriter (next to Ashlee Simpson, that is), is a magnet for trouble—of both the intentional and unintentional variety. There’s a somewhat funny scene involving Faris consuming almost an entire tube of toothpaste… Well, depending on what mood you’re in. Watch Chris as he almost trips off the stairs (it looks real, rather than rehearsed) as he’s heading out the door for a showdown with Dusty.

This movie happened to be screened on a day when I was welcoming visual junk food, and a lot of the subtleties struck me as rather funny. On another day, perhaps it wouldn’t have worked… they may seem contrived on a second viewing. I don’t know, but as I don’t suspect most people will watch this more than once, my initial reaction is really all that’s relevant.

From here the movie is almost entirely just a series of slapstick and absurdist comedic moments strung together on a very thin thread of a story that leads to a rather obvious conclusion… but if you’re in the right frame of mind (don’t ask me what it is… I just work here) these bizarre encounters and events (except for the cliché where guess-who’s Christmas display gets annihilated in an improbably silly chain reaction) range from the benign to the utterly hilarious. It’s quite possible that I found this film funnier because I was rather disappointed by “Waiting…”, another film featuring Ryan Reynolds and Anna Faris.

The problem with “Waiting…” was that, without an absolutely superb comedy script, the actors don’t seem to have been given much opportunity to work off each others strengths but here there’s at least the illusion of spontaneity which makes the film, by comparison, many times funnier. That’s not saying much but… it wouldn’t hurt to see if the vastly superior “Groundhog Day” is available at your local video rental.

While the two are similar, only in the respect that both Chris and “Groundhog”‘s Phil (Bill Murray) eventually aspire to be better than they are, Chris goes through a complete 360 degree rotation in his personality whereas the slightly-more-considerate-but-still-Phil seems to be far more plausible. Humor requires us to be able to connect on a human level, and “Just Friends” may hold some laughs for those of us for whom the awkwardness of the “Friend Zone,” high school and reunions (planned or happenstance) is still within the vicinity of ten years past. Perhaps most unlike “Groundhog Day,” whose insightful humor doesn’t stop at the absurdity and slapstick, this movie connects with us on some incidental levels—not universally.

Just Friends • Dolby® Digital surround sound in select theatres • Running Time: 96 minutes • MPAA Rating: PG-13 for sexual content including some dialogue. • Distributed by New Line Cinema