★ ★ ★ ½ ☆
Alice Kepley (Dakota Johnson) begins a break from boyfriend
Josh (Nicholas Braun) to enjoy the pleasures of being a fully-capable singleton.
Aided by go-getting workmate Robin (Rebel Wilson) and happily lonesome barman Tom
(Anders Holm), Alice makes a beeline for the bars and clubs of New York City, a
shot glass clutched to her heart. Meanwhile, her midwife sister Meg (Leslie
Mann) struggles with her secret yearning for motherhood.
What surprised me most about Ditter’s film (having initially
dismissed it as another rom-com rolling off the production line) was the way it’s
constructed as a piece of film-making. For all the pleasures inherent in Bridesmaids and Trainwreck¸ Judd Apatow and his contemporaries often leave the
camera prone while the main players cling to motionless improvisation. All fine
and dandy in a self-contained TV act, but a choice that ultimately stifles cinematic
comedy from developing individual stylistic sensibilities. Not here: our leads
are presented as characters in lieu of stand-up performers who wandered onto a
film set, by virtue of glistening cinematography and punchy editing. Fil Eisler’s
score also slips keenly between the toe-tapping line-up of pop tunes.
Praising the technical aspects of a comedy suggests the
humour isn’t up to par, but that’s far from true. The script is snappy and
snarky in all the right places and gives way to hefty slapstick without turning
crass: a convoluted way of saying it’s very, very funny. Consistency in
laughter shouldn’t be underestimated, and that’s where the film brings A-game
material. Those swigging any form of drink should choose their moments
carefully, or suffer the same clogged throat and watering eyes as yours truly.
Johnson brings an honest shy smile to offset Wilson’s
foul-mouthed bluntness and sparks fly magnificently between them. The latter
casting prompted fears of eye-rolling “Hey, aren’t fat people funny?!” gags,
but she makes her mark through obstinacy over obesity, stealing the show so dutifully
in the opening movement that scenes lacking her feel a measurable percentage
less funny. Mann lends a steadfast stream of chuckles too, and gains my
forgiveness for ear-piercing screech-fest The
Other Woman. Jason Mantzoukas’ similarly makes amends for his turn in Dirty Grandpa.
Holding the film back from greatness is a sag in pace as we
near the final act. Laughter grinds to a halt and secondary delights (see Alison
Brie’s online dating fanatic) are forgotten. As our two leads strive to fix
their various affairs with a whiff of cliché, we realise that a film titled How to Be Single has spent an awful lot
of time dealing with the fallout of various relationships and fusing female
development to male behaviour. Up until the quick-fix epilogue, it’s a
noticeable but forgivable blemish on an otherwise winning formula.
A comforting cast, defined style and a laughs-to-run-time
ratio that surpassed my modest expectations make How to Be Single exactly what it should be: a glowing, glitzy girls’
night out served up as a cinematic winter warmer.
