Trainwreck lacks emotional carnage

Home Entertainment: November 10

Amy Schumer’s blockbuster rom-com doesn’t reinvent the comedy wheel but it does apply some rubber, while Ben Kingsley walks a mile in Ryan Reynolds body in Tarsem Singh’s so so Self/Less

By Katherine Monk

Trainwreck 3/5

Starring: Amy Schumer, Bill Hader, Brie Larson, Colin Quinn, Vanessa Bayer

Directed by: Judd Apatow

Is it an Amy Schumer movie directed by Judd Apatow, or a Judd Apatow movie that stars Amy Schumer? It’s hard to tell, because Trainwreck is sexual, psychologically insightful, funny and, in the end, earnest with a very human message about being real, and putting love first.

Yeah. Yeah. Nice. Nice. But I was expecting something a little less conventional from Schumer, the woman who’s been able to “transform comedy” – apparently overnight – by referring to her genitals as often as men. But is that truly transforming comedy, or a case of pushing the boundaries of conformity far enough to include women in the formula?

Judging from Trainwreck, it would seem to be the latter as Schumer takes on the role of Amy, a nice-but-troubled young professional who can’t commit. Plagued by a dysfunctional Daddy problem, Amy seeks the affection of men everywhere because she suffers from a love deficit that she masks with drinking and promiscuity.

When she meets a nice sports surgeon (Bill Hader), she’s forced to face her demons, but not before sabotaging the entire affair. Without a strong support network, she’d be a tragic figure circling the drain, but lucky Amy has a team of cheerleaders – who also happen to make a perfect supporting cast of heartwarming eccentrics, including her sister (Brie Larson) and best friend, played by SNL’s Vanessa Bayer in a floral onesie. They are wonderful female additions, but it’s Tilda Swinton who makes the deepest impression.

Taking on the now stereotypical role of the tough-as-nuts female editor, Swinton pushes the Anna Wintour shtick to nauseating new lows—adopting a working-class British accent, fake blond hair and capped teeth to signal the fallen state of journalism, and a magazine called S’nuff.

If only for Swinton’s performance as a mean and crazy power-tripper, Trainwreck would be worth the viewing, but it does also have Schumer, who reveals far more than expected.

Not only does she look fantastic in lingerie, she names the character after herself – which suggests a certain amount of biographical truth, at the very least, emotionally.

When Schumer’s character feels most real, you get a sense that memory is engaged. There’s a heft to it, especially the opening sequence where her father explains that he doesn’t always want to play with one doll. The rom-com bits don’t have the same flow, or conviction.

They actually feel stale, which is a huge disappointment given how unpredictable Hader and Schumer can be. And that’s where the Apatow packaging is most palpable – in the creases of Hollywood romantic formula that keep everything encased in a plastic wrapper.

I was hoping an Amy Schumer romantic comedy meant ditching the whole sexist underpinnings of the genre – and the idea that you can only be happy when you’re married to the right guy. If anyone could have taken us to the post-happily-ever-after land of tomorrow, it was Schumer. But it seems she’s still trying to figure out if she’s more Jennifer Aniston or Lenny Bruce.

Special features: Deleted scenes, gag reel, Line-O-Rama, The Secrets of the Wu, feature commentary with Judd Apatow, associate producer Kim Caramele. (November 10)

Self/less

3/5

Starring: Ryan Reynolds, Sir Ben Kingsley, Matthew Goode, Natalie Martinez

Directed by: Tarsem Singh

Imagine being able to trade in your body for a brand new model. It’s the stuff of sweet dreams and Walt Disney nightmares, and as medical technology continues to evolve, it almost seems plausible. In this update of Doctor Frankenstein, Damian (Kingsley) is looking for a second chance at life. Condemned to die in a sick body, Damian is approached by a mysterious man (Matthew Goode) who tells him about shedding – trading one old body for a new one grown in a lab.

Miraculously, the brain transfer worked—which means Damian’s head is now inside Ryan Reynolds body. Everyone is happy, for a brief moment, until random memories suggest the new body may have had an original occupant.

Director Tarsem Singh’s highly celebrated visual skill set is on display and used to contrast two distinct realities, but there’s a cheesy urgency to them that undermines his attempt at dark psychology, reducing Self/less to a fun distraction that never gets under the skin.

Special features: Commentary with Tarsem Singh, inside Self/less, Shedding.

Also released: Mr. Holmes (full review here), Terminator Genysis (full review here).