Forgetting Sarah Marshall

Jason Segel occupies a specific niche in the Judd Apatow comedy universe. Paul Rudd is all loopy, ironic charm. Seth Rogen is the group's stoner Fallstaff. Segel specializes in playing lovelorn obsessives, the kind of characters who immerse themselves in relationships with an unnerving fervency. As Nick Andopolis in the brilliant, Apatow-produced series Freaks and Geeks, he belted out a painfully earnest rendition of Styx's Lady for a mortified would-be girlfriend. In Forgetting Sarah Marshall, which he also wrote, his character is the sort of fellow who spends years writing a rock opera based on Dracula featuring handpuppets and not realize for moment that its a comedy.


Forgetting Sarah Marshall is about Segel dealing with a break up with his long time girlfriend, a television star played by Kristen Bell. Attempting to get over his persistent heartsick, he takes a trip to Hawaii, only to discover tha his ex and her new British rocker boyfriend are staying at the same resort. Pitching in to help Segel in his healing process are a stable of colorful resort staff members including the always-funny Apatow regulars Paul Rudd and Jonah Hill, and potential love interest Mila Kunis.


Present in this film are many of the traits that define Apatow-gang products like Knocked Up: ecstatically raunchy sex jokes, a cast jam-packed with comedy ringers, emotional beats that ring true, a schmendrick man-child slowly groping towards maturity, and female characters that are inexplicably attracted to said schmendrick man children. What separates Forgetting Sarah Marshall from other films in the Apatow stable is a sense of narrative economy. Sure, there's time taken for some of the patented Apatow aimless but hilarious horsing around, including a delightfully dirty subplot featuring 30 Rock stand-out Jack McBrayer as a sexually inept honeymooner. Yet Segel's intensity of emotion gives the film surprising focus.


Segel uses this film as a showcase not only for his hangdog persona, but also for a lifetime of romantic angst. As in previous performances, Segel walks a fine line between endearing sensitivity and creepy mania. He bares all in this film, including his genitals in an opening scene that is both painful and painfully funny. It's hard not to see the movie as a sort of personal catharsis, especially towards the end, when Segel's interactions with Bell seem to be more venegeful wish fullfilment than organic developments between the characters. This isn't necessarily a problem; it actually makes the film more interesting. Rare is the opportunity in an era when "comedy" and "ironic detachment" are often synonymous to see a performer this willing to put their heart, and their junk, up on the screen for all to see in the name of a getting a laugh.