Friendship, the indie film debut of writer-director Andrew DeYoung, explores the complexities of male friendship and isolation. Starring Tim Robinson as Craig, a socially awkward marketing executive, the film delves into his desperate need for companionship after he befriends the charming Austin (Paul Rudd). Their bond deteriorates due to Craig’s bizarre behavior, leading to a catastrophic fallout that unravels his seemingly successful life. The film poignantly highlights the loneliness men face in building friendships, even amidst societal expectations. Ultimately, it reflects on the pervasive nature of human isolation, despite technology enabling connection.
Despite being a painful watch even by cringe comedy standards, Friendship has emerged as a well-received indie film now widely released.
This marks the feature debut of writer-director Andrew DeYoung, known primarily for his work in television (Our Flag Means Death, Pen15). Friendship surprisingly excels at exploring the peculiarities of male friendships, especially considering the increasing occurrence of solitary men. Recent studies underscore the shocking lack of adult male friendships, revealing that 15 percent of men in the U.S. and an astonishing 28 percent in the UK report having no close friends.
The dark humor in Friendship strikes a familiar chord of social awkwardness, rapidly escalating to a level of embarrassment that lingers throughout the film’s ninety-seven minutes. Tim Robinson, from the Netflix sketch show I Think You Should Leave, stars as Craig Waterman, an awkward, self-absorbed manchild who surprisingly attains significant upper-middle-class success. Much like Homer Simpson viewed through Frank Grimes’ perspective in the classic Simpsons episode “Homer’s Enemy,” Craig astonishes us by somehow becoming a marketing executive with a lovely wife, Tami (Kate Mara), a son, Stephen (Jack Dylan Grazer), and a charming suburban home.
However, how long he can maintain this facade is uncertain. Tami is introduced early in a support group for cancer survivors, where she expresses her poignant fears about a potential recurrence. In a misguided attempt to be comforting, Craig leans in and talks in a strange mock-humorous tone, saying, “It’s not coming baaaaaaaack.”
This clumsy effort to act as a supportive husband demonstrates how out of touch Craig is. Dressed in oversized tan clothes, he boasts about his wardrobe from a store called Ocean View Dining, claiming, “They do food, too.”
Throughout the film, Craig faces many people staring at him in a mix of bewilderment and horror. His workplace success can be traced to the reliable oddness of corporate culture; his team’s job is to make mobile applications more addictive. It’s likely that Tami was drawn to him due to her tumultuous family background—she reveals her father was a narcissist whom her suffering mother never divorced. As for their son, Stephen, he adores Tami to an overwhelming degree, while he interacts with Craig in a mostly polite manner.
Despite his success, Craig feels so isolated that he boasts about having secured an office where his treat is eating lunch alone. He often gazes out his window, fogging up the glass as he watches male colleagues enjoying smoke breaks, laughing and chatting effortlessly—something he cannot replicate.
In essence, Craig is in dire need of a friend. One day, a miracle occurs when he delivers a misdelivered package to his new neighbor, revealing Austin Carmichael (played perfectly by Paul Rudd). Austin, a local TV weatherman with a tousled hairstyle and a prominent mustache, is a charismatic figure who enjoys adventures, plays in a band, and collects unique ancient weaponry. When he whimsically hands Craig a crude spearhead, the scene captures Craig’s transcendent joy against a backdrop of starlit sky.
Instantly smitten, Craig and Austin become fast friends, breaking into sewers, hunting mushrooms, and indulging in guys’ night-out beer sessions.
However, when Craig finds himself among Austin’s other male friends, his eccentricities, which initially charmed Austin, suddenly seem overwhelmingly peculiar. During an impromptu boxing match, Austin hits Craig twice in a friendly manner despite Craig’s protest. When Craig unexpectedly punches Austin when he’s unprepared, it crosses a line, and further sullying his fate, Craig comically puts soap in his mouth, whining, “I’m sowwy! I’m such a bad boy!”
This prompts Austin to end their friendship. Craig, who has been swept up in the thrill of “free self-expression,” is heartbroken and fixates on either reclaiming Austin or seeking revenge, leading to an unraveling of his surprisingly fortunate life.
However, it’s also understood that Austin maintains a façade, safeguarding his close circle from his vulnerabilities. Craig, smitten and obsessed, goes to great lengths to protect Austin’s secret. While Austin can seamlessly portray the ideal “guy” and maintain his friendships, Craig’s inability to do the same betrays his insecurity.
The film concludes with a troubling image: a close-up of Craig’s grimace of a smile, ghastly yet enduring despite everything, as he perceives Austin wink at him.
At this juncture, the film transcends the theme of male friendship, inviting reflections on the broader loneliness afflicting humanity. Despite advancements in technology designed to keep us connected, we find isolation is still on the rise. Perhaps it’s because the awareness of human need frightens many, making a “play it cool” demeanor amidst deep-seated misery the most effective way to attract friendship.
This perspective resonates. If grappling with your own overwhelming loneliness, why take on another’s troubles? As Groucho Marx once quipped, “I refuse to join any club that would have me as a member.”