Yesterday, I saw two good movies. One of them will probably be back this fall, but the other is in theaters everywhere, and you should see it.
I didn't love Humpday as much as David Schmader did, but I loved it just the same. (Obviously, between Lynne Shelton's well-deserved Genius Award from last year and the film's inclusion of our Hump festival as the major plot point, there's a conflict of interest here.) The thing I most appreciated about Humpday was the quality of characterization: The relationships in the film seemed real, especially Alycia Delmore's highly appealing turn as a wife who is suddenly faced with her husband's crazy-ass, charismatic best friend.
But I felt as though Humpday's central idea—two straight dudes want to do it as part of a weird sort of artistic statement—wasn't developed as clearly as I would've liked. My spoiler-less problem with the film goes something like this: It's obvious that the two men are squicked out at the thought of sleeping together, but it doesn't really explain why in any way that felt new to me. Maybe it's just not possible to explore that sort of thing in film, and maybe any exploration of motivation would have turned the film into a giant, unappealing public service announcement. But I felt like it lacked this one vital element that would've knocked the film out of the park and made it a classic. As it was, it was simply better than 95% of all the sex comedies out there.
But then I saw Up last night, and Megan Seling is right on: I cried at the beginning, I cried at the end, and I laughed all the way through. I think it's my favorite Pixar movie, and it will last forever.
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