Review of Man Up (2015) by Clarisesamuels — 18 Mar 2016

Although Simon Pegg is not credited with any writing on this film, one always expects that his presence will guarantee a hilarious film that is absurdly complicated, intriguing, and great fun to watch. But this time, maybe not so much. Pegg's fast-talking, nervous character, Jack, who mistakenly thinks he has just met his perfect match on a blind date set up by a friend, is certainly a tour de force that provides some psychological insight into a motor mouth who is perpetually engaging Freud's free-associative method. However, Jack's emotional journey does not have the expressive intensity or uncanny absurdism to make the film a study in brilliant comedic discourse—not quite achieving that signature blend which can be recognized as pure Peggian.

The chemistry between Nancy (Lake Bell) and Jack is too overstated to be a comedic adventure that is also appealingly intellectual. They both carry around notebooks with mantras (such as "learn French" and "get stronger thighs") and other simple self-help exercises. The constant referencing of these sophomoric notebooks by both characters is a major thread in the plot. To establish that they accidentally fall in love, the film resorts to a montage of images showing the two lovers acting wild and crazy at the bowling lanes, with Nancy often in kneeling positions to show off her derriere as viewed in jeans that are so tight, the seams are surely about to split open. Presumably, this gives Jack more incentive to fall madly in love.

Bell's character is particularly problematic. Nancy is also a jittery talker, but her persona is a bit darker than Jack's, for she is disillusioned and jaded about the state of her love life. She has nearly given up on the singles scene, preferring to avoid a party and stay in her hotel room, eating by herself and watching “The Silence of the Lambs,” which for bizarrely unexplained reasons, she knows by heart. Nancy is an odd admixture, acting like the British answer to a ditzy Annie Hall (Bell is actually American), but without the saving grace of being lighthearted, naive, and charmingly adorable. Instead, Nancy combines Annie Hall with the protagonists usually played by Woody Allen, a disenchanted Sad Sack who feels like an eternal loser at love. She is sardonic, hostile, and withdrawn, but unlike Allen's characters, she is not engaged in a deeper philosophical quest to resolve her sense of alienation. (And an almost incomprehensible dialogue about “The Blow Job Paradox” does not count as a philosophical system.) In the end, her quest is rather basic, if not positively adolescent—she simply needs a boyfriend.

The resolution to the dilemma of the mistaken identity and the resulting bond between Nancy and Jack becomes increasingly predictable and not terribly humorous. As far as Simon Pegg movies go, this one has its moments, but it merely skims the surface of Pegg's prodigious talent.