FRIENDSHIP
Genre: Comedy, Drama
Directed by: Andrew DeYoung
Starring: Tim Robinson, Paul Rudd, Kate Mara
Release Date: May 23, 2025
Platform: Theaters
Rating: 4/5
By Crystal Justine
“A gut punch wrapped in laughter.”
FRIENDSHIP is a specific kind of comedy that doesn’t just make you laugh—it makes you flinch, it makes your skin crawl, it makes you internally scream, “oh no, don’t do that!”. FRIENDSHIP from writer-director Andrew DeYoung, thrives in this uncomfortable space and stretches it to its breaking point. It’s deeply weird, strangely moving, and undeniably one of the most anxiety-inducing comedies in recent memory.
DeYoung leans heavily into satire and social discomfort, which brings a surprisingly artsy directorial style to a genre that often plays it safe visually. He evokes indie drama more than traditional buddy comedy, which ends up working in the film’s favor. This cinematic polish makes the awkwardness sharper, the silences heavier, and the emotional breakdowns more jarring. It’s like watching a beautiful painting slowly catch fire.
At the core of this slow-burning disaster is Craig, played by Tim Robinson. Craig is a walking red flag. He’s not a good husband. He’s an awkward father. He has zero grasp of social cues, and he operates with the narcissistic energy of someone who thinks they’re charming but is clearly the weirdest guy in the room. Watching him is like watching a drunk man try to cross a tightrope—you know he’s going to fall, but you can’t look away.
The experience of watching Craig is eerily reminiscent of Robert Pattinson’s character in Good Time. You’re not rooting for him in the traditional sense. You’re not hoping he wins. You’re hoping he doesn’t make things worse, and the movie needs to be seen to see how that goes. Each scene pushes the limits of secondhand embarrassment, until you’re nearly squirming in your seat, unsure whether to laugh, cry, or just walk out for some fresh air.
Paul Rudd, in what might be one of his most unhinged performances since Anchorman, shows up as a chaotic force of nature that perfectly balances Robinson’s anxious desperation. Rudd plays it like he wandered off the Anchorman set, grew up a little, but never lost that manic charm and sparkle. Together, the two form a duo so mismatched and dysfunctional, it somehow works.
Beneath all the cringe and chaos, FRIENDSHIP actually has something to say. It peels back layers of adult male relationships, like how some men easily fall into the “bros for life” dynamic while others, like Craig, are deeply isolated and painfully unequipped to form genuine connection. There’s a subtle commentary here on how difficult it is for adult men to make new friends, especially when vulnerability and emotional intelligence have been socialized out of them.
The film also gives us a raw, bleak glimpse into a crumbling marriage. Not a union built on love, but desperation. Craig and his wife didn’t choose each other out of passion or alignment, but out of mutual emotional collapse. It’s a sobering portrayal of what happens when two people mistake mutual brokenness for compatibility. The marriage storyline is a compelling side plot that underscores Craig’s spiral and illustrates how taxing it is to love someone who can’t see past themselves.
In the end, FRIENDSHIP isn’t exactly a feel-good movie. It’s more of a gut punch wrapped in laughter. It’s hilarious in a both a “this is too real” and “this is unreal” sort of way. It’s awkward, stressful, and occasionally heartbreaking. But it’s also bold. It swings at the intersection of humor and sadness, masculinity and insecurity, self-worth and self-destruction.
Andrew DeYoung doesn’t offer easy answers—just a cinematic rollercoaster where you sometimes scream in delight and sometimes scream to get off. Honestly? That might be exactly what adult friendship feels like.
