Skip to Content, Navigation, or Footer.
Logo of The Spectrum
Saturday, May 04, 2024
The independent student publication of The University at Buffalo, since 1950

A Laughing Matter

Movie: 50/50

Studio: Mandate Pictures

Release Date: Sept. 30

Grade: B

Being stricken with a rare form of spinal cancer in the prime of life is rarely a laughing matter – unless, of course, Seth Rogen is involved.

Such is the premise of 50/50, a comedy-drama film starring the affable Joseph Gordon-Levitt (Inception) and the always Seth-Rogen-esque Seth Rogen (Kung Fu Panda 2).

The low-key film begins unassumingly enough: Adam Lerner (Gordon-Levitt) and friend/co-worker Kyle (Rogen) prepare for another bland day at their underwhelming jobs at a local radio station. The film takes extra care to establish things aren't exactly coming up Adam's way: the 27-year-old can't drive, has a less-than-ideal sex life with his flakey and poser-artist girlfriend Rachel (Bryce Dallas Howard, The Help), and has a dull and unfulfilling job. Kyle, of course, is quick to quip about all of this and more in typical Seth Rogen fashion.

Eventually, the audience finds Adam in a doctor's office; Adam, apparently, is seeking treatment for the lower back pain he has recently been experiencing. Then the bomb is dropped: Adam has a rare form of spinal cancer.

From here, the film focuses not on Adam so much as his less-than-perfect relationships with the people that populate his life: Adam struggles with growing detachment from his uncommitted girlfriend, frustration with his concerned yet overbearing mother (Anjelica Houston, When in Rome), awkward sexual tension with his cute psychiatrist Katie (Anna Kendrick, Scott Pilgrim vs. the World), and irritation with Kyle, who is apparently willing to exploit Adam's condition to get them both laid.

Interestingly enough, 50/50 is loosely based on a true story: the experiences of its screenwriter, Will Reiser. Even more interesting is the fact that Will Reiser was real-life friends with Seth Rogen during the ordeal – perhaps there's something to Rogen always playing himself, at least when it comes to this movie.

Mixing deadly serious subject matter with comedy is a hard act to pull off, and 50/50 deserves high praise for perfectly walking the fine line. The film will often suck the air out of the theater with a particularly moving or sobering sequence, only to counterpoint it with the laughter produced by Rogen's irreverent outbursts. Rarely can a movie be called both legitimately funny and genuinely sad, yet 50/50 is such a film.

The feat was certainly aided by the film's dynamite cast. Gordon-Levitt and Rogen make for both excellent comedic foils and convincing real-world friends, and their unique bromantic chemistry is what ultimately carries 50/50. The film's female roles are also well-acted: Howard does an exceptional job as Adam's just-slightly-unlikable girlfriend throughout the early portions of the movie, while Kendrick balances being both endearingly and comically awkward as Adam's psychiatrist.

Great though the cast is, the development of their character relationships is somewhat neglected. The film tries to tackle a lot, and its meager running time – just 99 minutes – isn't quite enough to flesh out everything: an extra scene or two between Adam and each of the three women in his life, as well as an extra few scenes with the elderly cancer patients Adam befriends, would have gone a long way. As it stands, the proceedings feel rushed, and plot points like Rachel's growing detachment from Adam and Adam's budding relationship with his psychiatrist happen too hastily to be affecting.

In a film about human relationships, such a shortcoming is a major one, and all the Seth Rogen shenanigans in the world couldn't make up for it. This major reservation aside, though, 50/50 remains an emotionally dynamic, well-acted and clever film that manages to turn a life-altering personal tragedy into a laughing matter.

Email: arts@ubspectrum.com


Comments


Popular









Powered by SNworks Solutions by The State News
All Content © 2024 The Spectrum