The commitment-phobic lover doesn't like to stay the night or spoon or talk about kids. Pillow talk? Not a fan. These emotional isolators tend to be men, at least in the movies. But not in Trainwreck, the big-screen coming-out party for the exceptionally funny Amy Schumer.
Known primarily for her Comedy Central series Inside Amy Schumer, Schumer, who also wrote Trainwreck, is a master of bawdy self-deprecation. The Amy she plays here drinks like one of the guys and blithely hops from bed to bed. Her one-night stands rarely make it to the morning after; when they do, they're summarily dismissed.
Schumer finds a fine directorial match here in Judd Apatow. He's the king of arrested-development comedy, and he's long displayed a feminist streak by wedging strong female characters into his tableaux of dudes and their bongs. Apatow, like Schumer, also goes heavy on improv, which can be good and bad. Many sequences in Trainwreck are explosively funny and loose. Like other Apatow productions, the movie also settles into a narrative listlessness that prevents the best pieces from forming a fully coherent whole.
Amy writes for a tawdry lifestyles magazine that goes by the delicious name of S'nuff. Her toxic editor (Tilda Swinton, terrific as always) notes Amy's overt hostility toward sports and assigns her a profile of an eminent and well-adjusted sports surgeon (Bill Hader). Wouldn't you know it, she falls for the nice guy. He reciprocates. And she responds by activating her well-honed flight instincts.
"You're pretty-ish and you're not gorgeous." That's Amy's boss paying her a backhanded compliment, but, like the rest of the film, the line was written by the star. Schumer doesn't look or act like a supermodel, and her regular-girl appeal allows her to get away with saying all manner of inappropriate stuff. She's also adept at wordless comedy, and she's quick to form droll facial reactions that don't need excess verbiage. She's the real deal.
In its own meandering way, so is Trainwreck. Apatow may have trouble telling a tight story, but he's always had a gift for allowing pungent emotional moments to peek out between the punch lines. Amy is the way she is because of her father, an aging philanderer played with understated savvy by Colin Quinn. Their bond is complicated by Amy's sister (Brie Larson), married with a kid and with a firm understanding that the old man is kind of a jerk. Apatow and Schumer know that sturdy comedy benefits from the stuff of real life, and they supply it in consistent and sneaky fashion.
They also know how to let other people riff. LeBron James - yes, that LeBron James - steals a few scenes as a skinflint, starry-eyed romantic version of himself. (Other sports cameos include Cowboys quarterback Tony Romo.) Swinton, Quinn and Larson all get chances to shine, as do Mike Birbiglia, Vanessa Bayer, John Cena, Dave Attell, Randall Park and Ezra Miller. Trainwreck possesses a generosity of spirit that makes its bagginess more than tolerable.
Most important it's got Schumer, a comedian seizing her moment. Here's hoping she makes herself comfortable and sticks around a while.
TRAINWRECK (B+)
Directed by Judd Apatow. R (strong sexual content, nudity, language and drug use). 125 mins. In wide release.
