Oz: The Great and Powerful

Director: Sam Raimi
Starring: James Franco, Mila Kunis, Rachel Weisz, Michelle Williams, Zach Braff, Joey King, Bill Cobbs, Tony Cox, Abigail Spencer
Running Time: 130 min.
Rating: PG

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

When it's firing on all cylinders, Sam Raimi's The Wizard of Oz prequel, Oz: The Great and Powerful really works. And when it isn't, it doesn't. The film's a success whenever it's attempting to find inspiration from the classic 1939 MGM film and a failure when looking to the Star Wars prequels for it. While this isn't quite as flawed as that, it still earns that comparison through some clunky dialogue stretches and an overkill of unnatural looking CGI effects that frequently overwhelm the integrity of the production. It helps there's at least some narrative riches from which to draw, even if the filmmakers and Disney were legally and creatively hamstrung by having to adhere strictly to L. Frank Baum's Oz novels instead of the classic film, which Warner Bros. owns. But whatever issues exist shouldn't be pinned on James Franco, whose entire persona seems perfectly matched to the title character and his story arc, which is surprisingly well executed. And he doesn't even give the best performance in the film. Looking down the credits, it's easy to guess who does, but even that wasn't a given in this situation. Despite feeling almost achingly mainstream to a fault, nothing seems completely "safe" when you're messing with cinematic mythology. The movie definitely has problems, but still has enough virtues not to dismiss entirely.

In a clever visual callback to The Wizard of Oz, the movie opens in black and white in Kansas in 1905. Oscar "Oz" Diggs (Franco) is a struggling, small-time magician in a traveling circus known under his stage name, "Oz: the Great and Powerful." But he's hardly either, earning a reputation as a lying, egotistical charlatan who not only weasels and cheats his way through performances, but verbally berates his loyal assistant Frank (Zach Braff). He's also a serial womanizer, seducing a local girl (Abigail Spencer) helping with his show and rebuking his former flame Annie (Michelle Williams), who's now engaged to another man. But when Oscar escapes a precarious situation in a hot air balloon, a tornado transports him to the Land of Oz, where he's mistaken by a smitten Theodora (Mila Kunis) as the "Wizard" who's arrived to overthrow the Wicked Witch. As the opportunistic Oscar plays along with the ruse, Theodora's sister Evanora (Rachel Weisz) is more skeptical and has her sights set on destroying Glinda The Good Witch (also Williams).

Many would claim that the the movie's strongest section is the black-and-white Kansas prologue and when Oscar arrives in Oz and the picture fades into color, things just aren't as interesting as it flirts with being just another overstuffed spectacle. While it's tough to completely disagree with that, I'll at least give credit where it's due to Raimi for wisely cribbing that famous color transition from the 1939 classic, even if it can't possibly carry the same impact. As a setting, his version of Oz is problematic in exactly the same way most of these imagined movie universes now are with no one looking like they're actually a part of their environment. The effects resemble a video game and it's plainly obvious the actors are working against a green screen to the point that it almost took me right out of the story. Then after a while I got used to it, despite this being a classic case of more being less and material basically begging for simpler, more practical effects. If the intention was for Oz to look and feel like a real place, then it's fair to say that's the film's biggest failing. The one effect that undeniably does work is the China Doll character voiced by Joey King, which realistically resembles a porcelain doll and displays a whole range of childlike mannerisms and facial expressions that never look and feel anything less than human. Finley the monkey isn't as digitally well rendered but Zach Braff turns in some inspired vocal work.

Between the effects and some of the exchanges that initially take place between Oscar and Theodora, it's hard not to think of the Star Wars prequels with Mila Kunis acclimating herself about as well (or as poorly) as Natalie Portman did in that franchise, tripping over some clunky dialogue. Franco, however, has the right idea and plays Oscar in his classic James Franco laid back style in which he seems almost amused by the lines he's delivering. The result is almost comparable to his stint hosting the Oscars, except this time while awake. In this particular setting, that works and he certainly doesn't shy away from playing him as a slimy jerk with only a few redeeming qualities. It's kind of a great performance, and unlikely we we'd have the movie we do without it since he does get you to at least care about the character, regardless of his likability level.

The marketing team went to almost extraordinary lengths to conceal the identity of the Wicked Witch in what turned out to be the worst kept secret since the twist in The Crying Game. To be safe, I won't reveal anything other than that the actress is thanklessly asked to do a full-on imitation of Margaret Hamilton's iconic performance in the 1939 film and fares better than expected considering what she's up against. It's easy to argue that when that somewhat complicated transformation takes place and Glinda arrives on the scene the movie really starts to find its footing. But more accurately, it's the unmatched Michelle Williams, who's made her career starring in smaller, artsier projects that probably don't cost half as much as the catering on this one, coming to the rescue in a capacity we've rarely ever seen her in. It almost takes a bit just to wrap your head around it, but her crossover into "movie star" territory is as awesome as you'd expect it to be. Alleviating any potential concerns her skills would be wasted trying to elevate fluffier, more mainstream material, Williams speaks every line and delivers each gesture as Glinda as if she not only understands exactly what she's saying and doing, but actually believes it deep within her soul. Her warm embodiment of pure goodness and optimistic charm provides the perfect contrast to Franco's character, acting as his guide on the journey and bringing the story full circle. It's largely because of their scenes together everything eventually comes together in a semi-satisfying way.

Considering the legal restrictions, it's a miracle this film was made at all and a credit to the source material that it still very much feels like an Oz story, even with the absence of key elements we tend to directly associate with it. And yet it still kind of doesn't. I mostly blame that on the technology, which somehow looks worse than it did in 1939 because it looks better. If that makes any sense. With a relatively strong script and two great performances it's hard not to wonder how good this could have been if it wasn't Disneyfied within an inch of its life and the not so special effects didn't look so awful. But we already have that movie. It's called The Wizard of Oz. Williams and Franco are the primary reasons to see this but considering you can pretty much see any other project of theirs at random and extract greater value, that's just not enough. Of course, I'm not in the target audience for this anyway so it hardly matters. For all the little details Raimi got right, he got the big thing wrong. The sense of magic and wonder we all associate with Oz is at least partially missing because it feels like it was made by a committee more concerned that everything look and feel expensively fake. And that's just too big a big hurdle to clear when attempting to resuscitate a property with a history as substantial as this.         

Ted

Director: Seth MacFarlane
Starring: Mark Wahlberg, Mila Kunis, Seth MacFarlane, Joel McHale, Giovanni Ribisi, Patrick Warburton, Matt Walsh, Jessica Barth, Laura Vandervoort, Sam J. Jones
Running Time: 106 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

The biggest surprise coming out of Seth MacFarlane's Ted is how edgy it isn't. Sharing similar themes some of the other bromance comedies released over the past few years, the real draw is the foul-mouthed teddy bear (voiced by MacFarlane) and all the other crazy happenings surrounding the idea of that stuffed animal being brought to life as a semi-functional member of society, and a washed-up C-list celebrity of sorts. Having never seen a single episode of Family Guy I can only wager a guess based on this that gross-out humor categorizes MacFarlane's approach to comedy. But his first big screen feature also suggests he's capable of more because, taken as a whole, this is a funny, enjoyable experience that fell maybe just half a rung short of my expectations, which were admittedly high based on the trailer. It's really the subtler, subversive stuff that pushes the movie over the hump despite some of its issues, which primarily stem from sex and poopy joke overkill. But in the end, it all somehow works itself out and is more than worth the watch.

In an incredibly funny prologue (narrated by Patrick Stewart), we're told the story of John Bennett, a child living in a suburb outside Boston in the 1980's who has a big problem making friends. That all changes when he wishes one night on a falling star for his new Christmas gift, a teddy bear named "Ted," to come to life. Much to the shock of John's parents, and just about everyone one else in the country, he does, setting off a media frenzy and giving him a friend for life. Flash-forward to 2012 and 35 year-old John (Mark Wahlberg) is in a serious, committed relationship with Lori (Mila Kunis) who wants to get married but must first solve the problem of sharing her boyfriend and their Boston apartment with a talking bear who drinks, swears, picks up prostitutes and gets high on a daily basis. John, a child at heart and loyal to his best friend, is never hesitant in joining in the fun, even if it means skirting the responsibilities of adulthood. Lori gives him an ultimatum: Her or the bear. So Ted, whose days as a top celebrity are well behind him, agrees to move out and get a job. But this doesn't really solve the problem as John must decide whether his wild, childish antics with Ted are worth throwing away a potential future with the girl of his dreams.

The actual laughs in Ted are hit or miss, but when they hit, they hit big. A lot of that stems from the set-up, as the opening minutes of the picture are well enough realized in concept and execution that MacFarlane would really have to work hard to botch the rest of it.  Some of the best moments come early when we see the childhood flashbacks of John and Ted growing up together in brief scenes filled with hilarious 80's period details like John's Star Wars figures and Nintendo, as well as the two  buds watching Flash Gordon on the couch. Even better handled is the depiction of Ted's celebrity status, which includes a frighteningly authentic looking clip of a past appearance on The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson. It looks as real as can be and that trend continues throughout the film with any scene Ted shares with human actors, as the motion capture rendering of this bear is absolutely flawless, proving filmmakers have come a longer distance than originally thought with this technology. In fact, it's probably the first time a motion capture creation of an animal seems preferable to just stuffing someone in a suit. As far as the actual "man-child needs to grow up" plot, Judd Apatow could probably sue. So could Adam Sandler. We know exactly where it's going and pretty much all the paces MacFarlane must go through to get there. That's the most disappointing aspect of this, along with the fact that some of the toilet humor gets obnoxious and repetitive after a while. But when the script's focus is on Ted acclimating himself to the real world rather than the rift John's bond with him causes in his relationship with Lori, the movie shines. And MacFarlane delivers exactly what's needed in the absurdity department with a hilarious, extended appearance from a certain washed up 80's TV star playing himself and a kidnapping subplot that's even funnier (and creepier) than was likely intended.

The best performance comes from MacFarlane, who provides the voice and movements for the bear. Hands down. He's the star. If anything, Wahlberg's noticeably too old for this role, even within the confines of someone who was cast precisely for that reason. At times it's off-putting, but at others it kind of makes the situation funnier because it's just so weird. But what's strangest is how inauthentic and forced his New England accent sounds considering the actor actually grew up just outside Boston. Did MacFarlane have him do that on purpose to get laughs or am I giving both too much credit? Mila Kunis isn't called upon to be much more than the sweet, perfect girlfriend and, as expected, she pulls it off with little difficulty, as Lori tolerates John's shenanigans only up to a point. While she can drop F-bombs and party with the best of them when necessary, her character's basically a saint, which works well for a story in which no one else is. That holds double for the two villains in the film, Lori's perverted boss Rex (played to slimy perfection by Joel McHale) and Giovanni Ribisi's bizarre stalker character, Donny, whose childhood memories of Ted make him determined to own the bear for his son. All the strange tics and line deliveries that infuse Ribisi's dramatic performances with all the subtly of a sledgehammer are suddenly a whole lot more enjoyable when we're finally given permission to laugh at them. So much so that when this insane story thread completely takes over in the third act I didn't mind it one bit. That, and anything involving Ted trying to survive since his celebrity dried up, are where the film's biggest laughs come from. Especially those involving his job at the grocery store.

While asking the audience to care about anything other than this bear was a tall order and I still wish a concept this excellent wasn't used to frame a familiar rom-com formula, yet it all mostly succeeds in spite of that. Ted also shares the same basic outline as every other guy-oriented comedy that's been released over the past few years, so it's probably a good thing we're not watching for insights or laughs about that. The movie is unfunniest when trying too hard with the bathroom humor, but at its absolute best when it's not even trying to be funny and allowing the premise play out with reckless abandon. It's the smaller, random throwaway stuff that work the best. But you can't help but wonder how great this could have been had MacFarlane dumped the more conventional approach and instead just let the material fly completely off the rails. Maybe he's saving that for the sequel. 

Black Swan

Director: Darren Aronofsky
Starring: Natalie Portman, Mila Kunis, Vincent Cassel, Barbara Hershey, Winona Ryder
Running Time: 108 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

There's a scene in Black Swan where ballet director Thomas Leroy (Vincent Cassel) explains to star dancer Nina (Natalie Portman) why she just isn't right for the lead role of the Swan Queen in his production of Swan Lake. How her technique is flawless but she's too much of a perfectionist to let go. Too overly rehearsed and calculated. Concerned about hitting her mark each time instead of just giving in and freeing herself to the material. Sound like any actresses you know? Black Swan is 2 hours of director Darren Aronofsky trying to knock the acting out of Natalie Portman. He doesn't, but goes one better in converting all of her flaws as an actress into strengths, effectively rendering all her inadequacies irrelevant. She gives a performance that's technically perfect, which is kind of a cruel irony considering the movie's central theme.

This might be the first movie that exists entirely as a critique on an actress's style and method with even the central performance itself acting as a commentary on the person giving it. It also brings up the fascinating question of whether someone who isn't necessarily a great actor can give an Academy Award worthy performance. Of course, the answer is yes (Sandra Bullock won last year for crying out loud) since Oscars are supposed to be given for individual performances, not as career achievement plaques or quantifiable measurements of talent. And with a track record of wrecking Star Wars, playing a poor man's Zooey Deschanel in Garden State and straining as the world's most uncomfortable stripper in Closer, that news should come as a relief for Portman. She usually falters when asked to leave her comfort zone, but Aronofsky was wise not to let her and the result will probably be an Oscar she's earned. A bit of a backhanded compliment, but there's little worth discussing outside her work and it's definitely not for a lack of other things going on. She is the film and without her it wouldn't have just not been the same, it couldn't have been made.

From the second it starts it's obvious exactly where Black Swan is going, how's it's getting there and even when. This isn't a mystery and its moves are as carefully choreographed as the dance steps but it makes little difference given how much more is on Aronofsky's mind. What happens in the final act isn't necessarily surprising but how it's presented is shocking, as is how far awesomely over-the-top and committed the film is to its own genre-bending insanity. There's little to discuss in the way of plot other than that Nina, overwhelmed by pressure from Thomas, the company's slimy director with unusually sexual teaching methods, and her overbearing stage mother, Erica (Barbara Hershey), begins to physically and psychologically unravel when faced with the challenge of playing the lead in Swan Lake for a prestigious New York City ballet company.

Having gotten the innocent White Swan down pat, it's the more sensual, aggressive Black Swan Nina struggles to grasp. Her potential understudy, Lily (Mila Kunis) does very much grasp it and their rivalry slowly evolves into something more as Nina's grip on reality continues to slip away and she slowly descends into madness. Kunis' role is also clear from the get-go (and she plays it note perfectly) but I wonder why more people aren't talking about Cassel, who's so frighteningly sleazy and believable as this maniacal director who psychologically stretches Nina further than she ever expected to go. Everyone's so taken by Portman's work that his memorable supporting turn has gone unnoticed, likely because of its subtle effectiveness. Much like her character in the film, she probably wouldn't have been able to give the performance she does without him pushing her.

Describing this as a companion piece of sorts to The Wrestler (as Aronofsky has done in interviews) makes sense from the standpoint that both focus on how an artist's obsession with their craft can destroy them from the inside-out. Both require enormous dedication to technique and craft and it's fair to assume the amount of physical training Portman (who reportedly shed nearly twenty pounds from her already waifish frame) and Kunis underwent in preparation for their roles rival Mickey Rourke's for that film, minus the negative stigma attached. And it's also fair to assume there's as much (if not more) Portman in Nina as there was Rourke in Randy "The Ram," making the already uncomfortable scenes of her being sexually and verbally criticized even more uncomfortable knowing that Thomas could just as easily be talking about the actress, with her robotic frigidity called out for everyone to know about. Nina can't seem to channel the Black Swan and Portman wouldn't ever be able to tackle Kunis' role so it's odd seeing that basically acknowledged on screen and made part of the plot.

Just as The Wrestler wasn't "about" wrestling, neither is the Black Swan "about" ballet, but instead deeper themes, chiefly the futile, sometimes emotionally dangerous quest for perfectionism. But also how much people want from people who succeed and just when you think they're done they want more...and then MORE still. And just when they're gotten all they can they throw you away, as encapsulated by Thomas' treatment of his former Swan Queen and prima ballerina, Beth (Winona Ryder--of all people!), forced into retirement and driven to self-destruction and insanity.  The whole film could basically be viewed as a running commentary on not only Portman but the plight of Hollywood actresses in general, cruelly discarded once they've surpassed their point of perceived usefulness and marketability. As I watched I thought how hilarious it could have been to cast Lindsay Lohan opposite Portman in the Lily role, but Kunis deviously owns it so well and there's more than enough campy shock value elsewhere.

As I left the theater I overheard many elderly audience members talking about how little they cared for the film. Of course, they didn't. If anything was ever bound to cause a generational split it's this since older viewers looking for art aren't likely to embrace the crazy 70's style horror detour taken when Nina sprouts feathers, mutilates herself, and picks shards of glass out of her skin (and that's not to mention the masturbation and lesbian sex scene). Younger viewers looking for that kind of craziness may find themselves getting restless during the extended ballet sequences (though I was surprised just how absorbing and suspenseful they were). What both parties can definitely agree on is that there's enough Portman for everyone, even if you're not a fan.

Strangely, the performance just further confirms what I've suspected of her all along, only this time the one-dimensionality works in her favor like never before. But it still couldn't have been easy for her to put herself out there like this emotionally, inhabiting a character so uncomfortably close to how she's publicly perceived. We frequently praise actors and actresses for taking unexpected risks by leaving their comfort zone, but it's sometimes even more special when a performer is pushed to the limit within it, owning a role they seem destined to play. I'll probably never be a Natalie Portman fan and always fail to grasp everyone's fascination with her, but with Black Swan she's at least now earned my begrudging respect.

Forgetting Sarah Marshall

Director: Nicholas Stoller
Starring: Jason Segal, Kristen Bell, Mila Kunis, Russell Brand, Bill Hader, Paul Rudd, Jonah Hill
Running Time: 111 min.
Rating: R

**1/2 (out of ****)

When Forgetting Sarah Marshall was released in theaters 5 months ago I couldn’t wait to see it. At least that was until nearly everyone who did wouldn’t stop telling me how awesome Mila Kunis was, while Kristen Bell “does what she can” with a one-dimensional bitch character. There’s no sense hiding it: Everyone knows Bell is really the only reason I wanted to see the film. But the more I heard about her role and how she’s used the more my interest started to wane. It went from a movie I desperately wanted to see to figuring it wouldn’t be the end of the world if I waited until it hit DVD. So after falling off my radar until recently I was ready to approach the film with what can best be described as cautious optimism. Unfortunately that optimism ended up being false not only because what I heard about Bell’s role was true, but because that’s just one of the film’s many troubles.

The major problem that plagues Forgetting Sarah Marshall is nearly the exact same one that I thought sunk last year’s other overrated Judd Apatow-branded project, Knocked Up. It takes a realistic, depressing situation and attempts to make it funny, struggling the whole way to find the right tone. I don’t know about you but where I come from a good, honest guy being cruelly dumped by his impossibly hot TV star girlfriend isn’t funny. It’s tragic. No more hilarious than, say, an unwanted pregnancy.

What makes this slightly better (or less worse) than Knocked Up is that the script goes to more interesting places emotionally, which turns it into a compelling drama at times. It’s not a comedy, despite what you’ve heard. Richard Roeper, who isn’t exactly known as a quote whore, declared it “One of the funniest damn movies I’ve ever seen!” I’d love to ask him what he found so funny because I hardly laughed at all. I want to recommend the film for being smart and realistic about relationships while containing worthy performances, but precisely because of those reasons it doesn’t work.
Peter Bretter (How I Met Your Mother’s Jason Segal) is the successful music composer of a hit CSI-like show, Crime Scene, which stars his girlfriend of 5 years, Sarah Marshall (Bell), for whom his world revolves around. He comes out the shower to find her in his apartment ready to dump him and insists on taking the news naked, which is supposed to be hilarious. Why? I guess because he has a penis. It’s just a gross stunt done purely for shock value so the film can be promoted with a bunch of controversial red-band trailers. It would have been much funnier if, against everyone’s expectations, she delivered deliver the traumatic news naked to ease his pain and embarrassment. It would also force me to give the film an automatic 4 stars. After Peter indulges in sex with as many random women as he can in a failed attempt to get over her, his stepbrother Bryan (an unfunny Bill Hader) suggests he get away to a luxurious Hawaiian resort to clear his mind. It’s there where he bumps into Sarah and her new boyfriend, narcissistic British rocker Aldous Snow (Russell Brand).

There’s a scene early on that’s indicative of this movie’s problems. When Sarah asked Peter what he’s doing there his response is that he came to murder her. I laughed at the line, not because it was funny, but because that event wouldn’t be so far-fetched given the film’s wildly uneven tone. Much of the first half of the picture we spend with Peter moping and crying his eyes out, all while being consoled by an annoying group of characters providing “comic relief," each one seemingly unfunnier than the next. In choosing which aspect of the film works least, this wins hands down. Remind me never to stay at this resort.

I know everyone loves Paul Rudd but as a laid-back surfer instructor he gets no laughs at all. Slightly better (but not much) is Jonah Hill making his requisite Apatow appearance as a waiter obsessed with Aldous Snow. Both are bad, but not nearly as bad as 30 Rock’s Jack McBrayer portraying an annoying newlywed who can’t satisfy his wife’s voracious sexual appetite. All of them come off as standard screenwriting inventions rather than real people, surprising given all characters in any Apatow-produced film are usually too real for their own good.

When Peter starts dating the lovely hotel receptionist Rachel (Kunis) the film improves significantly. For the most part, everyone was right about Kunis. She brightens up what could previously be considered a dark comedy, although Segal’s script makes poor choices that prevent us from falling in love with her like we should, such as giving her a gang-banger boyfriend and a sub-plot involving a topless photo. Both feel as if they were transplanted from a lesser film. At times it’s tough to tell how much of Segal’s script did work on paper and what can be blamed on poor staging from former Undeclared writer Nicholas Stoller, making his directorial debut.

The battle that unfolds between Peter and Sarah is deep and takes unexpected detours, but they’re dramatic rather than comedic. Especially when characters are lying in bed hurling hurtful insults at one another. I felt like I was watching Mike Nichols’ Closer instead of a romantic comedy. Some of Aldous’ antics were amusing and a sub-plot involving Peter’s Dracula musical starring puppets was inventive and got some giggles out of me, but I’d still stop short in labeling any of it “hilarious.” I also hurts when the studio decides to give the best scenes away in trailers and commercials. Supposedly there’s a spin off in the works focusing on Brand’s rock star and I’m not opposed to the idea because he looked like the only actor in this who was really having fun. Jason Segal reminds me a lot of his former Freaks and Geeks and Undeclared castmate Seth Rogen in that he’s a really likable leading man in a goofy down-to-Earth way. He makes it look easy and can definitely carry a movie. I just wish he were in a better one.

A crisis develops with Sarah toward the third act and the film actually has the nerve to ask us to feel sorry for her. Those who said Bell was saddled with a one-dimensional bitch character were being kind. If another actress were playing her she probably would have come across as pure evil incarnate. What's strange is the more the script tries to invest Sarah with depth and give an explanation for her behavior the more detestable she becomes. Bell tries her heart out and does a great job with the thankless part she’s been handed but it’s an uphill battle no actress should be asked to fight. What’s worse though, is that the movie slides in all these details that vaguely (and sometimes very directly) reference Bell’s career so many viewers will walk away thinking she’s playing herself, especially given the film's nasty tone. But it could also be considered a testament to how well Bell played her that anyone would think that.

I don’t pretend to represent the views of Kristen Bell fans worldwide and realize the film isn’t supposed to be a showcase for her, but she deserves better. Why did Segal have to write Sarah as an inhuman ice queen? It's bad for Bell, but worse for the story. Of course, Kunis is going to come out smelling like roses because she didn’t have to pull off the thankless part. While I liked Kunis, her performance is far from a revelation, as some have suggested, and there's no doubt in my mind that Bell could have played it better if put in the same comfy position.

I don’t know what’s going on with these Apatow produced or directed projects anymore. It seems whenever his movies try to mix raunchy, vulgar humor with emotional pathos all sorts of issues with tone starts to rear its head. Maybe the solution is to pick one or the other. Having a first time director on the job probably didn’t help because this material would be hard to get a handle on even for a seasoned pro. But it doesn’t matter what I say. Everyone will love this movie just like they loved Knocked Up and think I’m orbiting another planet. And just like that film, I’ve been telling anyone willing to listen just how frustrated I am that I didn’t like this.
You have no idea how hard it is for me to bash this film, especially the same week I’m forced to recommend a George Clooney sports comedy. It doesn't get much worse than that. Bell will be fine after this, even if it may take me much longer to recover. And as depressing as that seems, it still isn’t as depressing as the situation presented in this movie. When one of Sarah Marshall’s questionable film choices is mocked in the movie it made me wonder whether Sarah Marshall would have taken the role of Sarah Marshall. I cared about everyone in the story but found little to laugh at. It’s great that romantic comedies are now smarter and more observant, but somewhere along the way Forgetting Sarah Marshall forgot it also has to be funny.