338 - Forgetting Sarah Marshall review

What’s worse than having your beloved girlfriend of five and a half years dump you unexpectedly? Well, a bunch of things, but I’m referring to seeing her with another man, of course.

But Peter Bretter (Jason Segel) has it even worse than that; his girlfriend is Sarah Marshall (Kristen Bell), renowned star of lame cop shows. He turns on the TV and she’s there. Looks around his apartment and there she is, her face plastered on calendars and novelty coffee mugs. He tries to bury himself in work, but that’s a problem, as he composes the music for Sarah’s show. When will people learn about interoffice dating?

So Peter takes a vacation to that great Hawaiian resort Sarah always raved about. Alas, peace and quiet was not to be, because the ex and her trashy rock star boyfriend (Russell Brand, scene stealer) have booked the room next door. “Forgetting Sarah Marshall” certainly works well as a two sentence pitch, which explains how the film got the funds to be produced.

Written by Segel and supposedly based on his own love life, “Forgetting Sarah Marshall” aptly extracts delight from the wretched anguish of trampled love. Multiple-relationship vets will find more than a few scenes familiar; swallowing the bitter pill of loss, the often bizarre circumstances surrounding the heartbreak, the futile attempts to sweep the pain under the rug, the seeming indifference of the initiating party to the suffering of the loser.

Segel’s script knows these conventions inside and out hits the right notes when mining the humor. Chief among its strengths are the characters, who film refuses to look down on, even the apparently callous Sarah her dippy ex-addict rock star boyfriend. There are even moments of great pathos, such as when Sarah, an antagonist of sorts up until this point, bluntly explains to Peter why she left him. She might not be in the right, but it turns out she’s not simply wrong.

Somewhat less compelling are Peter’s sidekick (Bill Hader), one of those chatty friends that virtually every lovelorn character needs to dispense postcard advice about recovery, and his new love interest (Mila Kunis), a resort employee who takes a shining to him. In fact, she likes him so much that she initially books him for free in the hotel’s $6000 a night suite, nice enough on its own, but she then falls in love with him, an even greater gift. Kunis does a great job at looking pretty and friendly, though her character has no personality other than a compulsive drive to lift the hero out of his dreary-eyed stupor.

The film is undeniably formulaic and improbable, but sensitive and thoroughly hilarious enough that even when wading through the tired motions (Sarah Marshall changes her mind, Peter has a crisis with the new girl, etc.) we can enjoy what’s next, so excellent are the writing and cast.

I’ll end this review with a note surrounding the film’s press. Much of the media hype revolves around Segel’s humorously intended frontal nude scenes, with the reports seemingly taking joy in doting on how hideous he looks. Except that he doesn’t look hideous, but like a normal guy who enjoys a slice of pizza and doesn’t work out too much. I know the washboard abs have become a staple of the contemporary movie star, but not even that long ago the leading men often looked like regular people. Good luck finding a film critic who looks as good, this writer included.

3.5 out of 5