C-Directed by Lucia Aniello Starring Jillian Bell, Scarlett Johansson, Ilana Glazer, Kate McKinnon, and Zoe Kravitz Review by Jon Kissel |  |
Current television shows have plenty of options for depictions of female friendship. From Insecure to Orange is the New Black, women writers have put what they know best onto the small screen, demonstrating that hang-out TV is entertaining regardless of gender. One of these shows is Comedy Central’s Broad City, a wacky two-fer on the streets of New York. Girls-behaving-badly film Rough Night is driven by much of Broad City’s creative cast. Director Lucia Aniello has helmed and written several episodes, and writer/stars Ilana Glazer and Paul W. Downs play major roles. As it shares all this personnel with Broad City, the expectation is that Rough Night will also share Broad City’s drug-fueled hijinks and lived-in camaraderie. Instead, the tone in this film is out-of-control and unfunny for long stretches. Television might’ve figured out how to tell these kind of stories, but, using Rough Night as an example, cinema’s got a ways to go.
Rough Night begins with a flashback to the central quartet’s college days, where they all pledge to remain friends through life changes and big events. Years later, they still see each other but are drifting apart thanks to distance and maturing at different rates. Jillian Bell’s Alice has settled into domesticity, Glazer’s Frankie is a reckless activist, Zoe Kravitz’s Blair is wealthy but going through a bad divorce, and Scarlett Johansson’s Jess is on the cusp of marriage and elected office. Spurred by Jess’ impending nuptials, an overeager Alice plans a bachelorette party to both bid farewell to Jess’ single life and to hopefully knit the foursome’s fraying bonds. Joined in Miami by Jess’ Australian friend Pippa (Kate McKinnon), the bacchanalia begins, culminating with a stripper at the home they’re staying at. Alice, ever boisterous, gets too frisky with the stripper and he suffers a fatal accident, shifting the night’s goals from debauchery to body disposal. The heightened stakes provoke the airing of dirty laundry, as the women fight amongst each other while trying to figure out how to make the best of a bad situation.
The tone is what’s most disconcerting about Rough Night. Broad City works in political feints and nods amongst its wackiness, but it never stops dead in its tracks to lecture the viewer about some real-world event. Glazer’s character does this repeatedly, telling horrific stories to shut down a course of possible action. She doesn’t relay these anecdotes in the use of dark comedy; it’s conveyed in an informative fashion. Why would anyone bring up the Oklahoma City serial rapist convicted of using his power as a police officer to assault women in the same film that contains Kate McKinnon getting flung off of a jetski that she runs aground on a beach? How much fetid air does the cop anecdote invite over a film, and how much does it have to clear before the characters can start making jokes again?
It’s a recognizable theme that people would formerly good friends would fall away from each other over time, but that can happen through inertia instead of force. It’s never sold that these people enjoy each other’s company, even in the flashback scenes to happier college days. Why would anyone want to spend time with Frankie, the poseur activist, who primarily uses her knowledge of injustice to guilt other people? Alice’s neediness is insufferable, as is Blair’s materialism, and Jess is merely the straight woman for people to flatly bounce jokes off of. Flaws are welcome, but they need to be buttressed by chemistry within the group, and the women don’t really have it. A synchronized dance they do together is acinematic and clumsy, and not in a fun way. Bell and McKinnon get some good pratfalls in, but between the five of them, who’ve I’ve greatly enjoyed in other things, the comedic output is minimal. They manage to get upstaged by Jess’ fiancé, played by Downs. Holding a low-key and nerdy bachelor party concurrently with the women, his character of Peter gets goaded to greater and greater heights of absurdity by his friends. The requisite slo-mo glamour walk into a club by the women does nothing but tick a box; the slo-mo sequence of the men buying adult diapers for a nonstop car ride is the kind of nonsense I was hoping for more of.
Rough Night is a film that should’ve worked based on its pedigree and the notable cast assembled for its creation, but as a debut from Aniello, this is inconsistent at best. Broad City began as the brainchild of Glazer and partner Abbi Jacobson, and while Aniello may have cut her teeth with them, she hasn’t figured out how to sustain a heightened state. Maybe it’s difficult to do so for longer than 22 minutes, but then again, Girls Night is a thing that exists in the world. C-
The tone is what’s most disconcerting about Rough Night. Broad City works in political feints and nods amongst its wackiness, but it never stops dead in its tracks to lecture the viewer about some real-world event. Glazer’s character does this repeatedly, telling horrific stories to shut down a course of possible action. She doesn’t relay these anecdotes in the use of dark comedy; it’s conveyed in an informative fashion. Why would anyone bring up the Oklahoma City serial rapist convicted of using his power as a police officer to assault women in the same film that contains Kate McKinnon getting flung off of a jetski that she runs aground on a beach? How much fetid air does the cop anecdote invite over a film, and how much does it have to clear before the characters can start making jokes again?
It’s a recognizable theme that people would formerly good friends would fall away from each other over time, but that can happen through inertia instead of force. It’s never sold that these people enjoy each other’s company, even in the flashback scenes to happier college days. Why would anyone want to spend time with Frankie, the poseur activist, who primarily uses her knowledge of injustice to guilt other people? Alice’s neediness is insufferable, as is Blair’s materialism, and Jess is merely the straight woman for people to flatly bounce jokes off of. Flaws are welcome, but they need to be buttressed by chemistry within the group, and the women don’t really have it. A synchronized dance they do together is acinematic and clumsy, and not in a fun way. Bell and McKinnon get some good pratfalls in, but between the five of them, who’ve I’ve greatly enjoyed in other things, the comedic output is minimal. They manage to get upstaged by Jess’ fiancé, played by Downs. Holding a low-key and nerdy bachelor party concurrently with the women, his character of Peter gets goaded to greater and greater heights of absurdity by his friends. The requisite slo-mo glamour walk into a club by the women does nothing but tick a box; the slo-mo sequence of the men buying adult diapers for a nonstop car ride is the kind of nonsense I was hoping for more of.
Rough Night is a film that should’ve worked based on its pedigree and the notable cast assembled for its creation, but as a debut from Aniello, this is inconsistent at best. Broad City began as the brainchild of Glazer and partner Abbi Jacobson, and while Aniello may have cut her teeth with them, she hasn’t figured out how to sustain a heightened state. Maybe it’s difficult to do so for longer than 22 minutes, but then again, Girls Night is a thing that exists in the world. C-
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