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‘Superbad’: Is there an editor in the house?

Now, on to the task at hand. I could not be more pleased about the success of Judd Apatow and his motley (and merry) crew of filmmaking buddies. Ever since the success of ‘The 40 Year Old Virgin,’ Apatow seems to have carte blanche in making hilarious adult comedies (read: Rated R) without much impeding by the studio. His films do not rely on expensive special effects nor are they burdened with exorbitant salaries from stars, so it seems as if the studios just let him run wild, have fun and make the movie he wants to make.
The minor problem I have with his films, ‘Superbad’ included, is that because he does not seem beholden to studios, he feels no need to curtail the length of his films, leading to stories that lack precision. To confuse the situation, despite his original storytelling, he still conforms to Hollywood by often concluding his films with endings that you can get in any romantic comedy. After an amazingly funny and strong start, ‘Superbad’ spirals out of control with unnecessary sequences, only to eventually be wrapped up in a nice little saccharine bow.
At the helm of this particular project is director Greg Mottola, a collaborator of Apatow’s dating back to ‘Freaks and Geeks.’ But the film is as much Apatow’s (his penchant for the sweet and charming, despite a veil of filth, permeates the film), as it is the neophyte director’s (this is Mottola’s second feature-length film). ‘Superbad’ features realistic dialogue with naturalistic performances, most notably those of the disarming Michael Cera and manic Jonah Hill. Raunchy, raw and fearless, the young characters in the film, thrilled and mortified by the maturation process, talk the way every kid wishes he was smart enough and gutsy enough to get away with.
Much as in ‘Knocked Up,’ after a rapid-fire open in a land of language and characters in which any kid (or kid at heart) would love to find himself lost, the story takes the hackneyed turn of movies that could only hope to aspire to Apatow and Co.’s intelligence, movies such as ‘Super Troopers’ or ‘Harold & Kumar Go to White Kastle.’ There is even a specific scene in the film where you find yourself thinking, ‘Oh boy, here we go.’ Two story lines diverge, and you know they are going to find their way back to one another. The only question is how long will they take. Unfortunately, the answer is ‘terribly longer than they should.’
You can tell from the writing and the performances that Apatow’s posse loves making movies together. And that is fabulous. But his joy of cooperative filmmaking also seems to be his biggest challenge. How do you take all of the great scenes and performances and whittle them down to a more digestible story and, eventually, movie? At almost two hours, ‘Superbad,’ just like the 129-minute ‘Knocked Up’ and 116-minute ‘40 Year Old Virgin,’ is just a few sequences longer than it needs to be.
No film, regardless of the brilliant writing (here by Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg, who started the script together as teens) or bravura performances, can maintain the frantic hilarity for two hours while still trying to fit in a serpentine (yet still contrived) plot. My advice: Lose the meandering and divergent story lines and stick with the jokes. They’re amazing.
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By FBA
August 17, 2007 3:57 PM | Link to this
“you write good”, albeit act benedectine to those who love you.
on the vein of more disappointment: I jumped rope and skipped over marques column because madonna scares me and read the perennial forks up dude’s review on “nancy’s steakhouse”; i went there to escape the $400 dinners at the lost pines hyatt: nancy’s was inedible, but the staff made jerry matthews look like the devil.
The waitress brought me a tito’s and sprite when i corrected her and said, “no soda” she brought me a tito’s and coca-cola. They marked up a $7 bottle of wine to $9 which was awfully just. I couldn’t drink it so i left it and my wallet beside it; when i returned for my dough (i was holding 3G’s because that’s how i roll) they packed up the undrunk bottle of wine and and wrote me a nice note in the envelope with my dough.
With respect to the steak, i did blow a nice big bubble with it.
sweet mother biscuits i wish i was you; but who else can i trust?.