Two Gen X guys are isolated in a biosphere and may be the last humans alive: this is surely one of the oddest bromance set-ups to come along in a long time. We learn their shared backstory progressively, though never in much detail. The little we know, both about their backgrounds and about the technological underpinnings of their habitat, doesn't make much sense when you stop to think about it, but clearly the idea is that you're not supposed to.
The two survive on a limited supply of before-times foods, both of the edible (in cans) and cultural kinds (Nitendo, pop music on vinyl, some books, some old videos and a set of Shakespeare sitting unread on the shelf stand in for all that is left of world civilization), and by keeping up a steady stream of humorous-aggressive banter that builds up to the breaking point and then (since they are apparently doomed to live together in a Sartrean, or Beckettesque, no-exit dyad until their deaths) recedes, in carefully-timed, almost operatic, waves of aggression and affection . They have, we learn, been close since childhood. That they are both American (very) is obvious, yet that one of them (the smarter one) is Black and the other (the more successful one, of course) is white is never mentioned or explored -- it just is, like so much in this odd, but affecting, film.
It helps that the Sterling K. Brown and Mark Duplass (a co-writer and the originator of this baroque and perhaps overwritten screenplay) have a lot of the chemistry and verve (if not always the perfect timing) of Jack Lemmon and Walter Matthau, the original Odd Couple, and so the many terrific jokes (against the grimmest possible backdrop) are brought off with real brio, keeping things mostly light (interspersed with those moments of tension) and the audience laughter flowing.
Needless to say, the sexual discomfort of two straight American bros flung into claustrophobic intimacy will lead into dangerous challenges to gender assumptions. Calling each other "dude" serves as a talisman, the crucifix and holy water that ward off the unthinkable, until things take a turn for the immensely bizarre. Since the filmmakers are hugely sensitive about spoilers and desperate that those who have seen the film keep the actual plot lines secret, I'll say no more about that side of things, but what happens does allow for some serious reflection on those themes, if you care to look beyond the gags. Even though, again, what actually happens doesn't make a lot of sense if you think about it very hard or even not very. (Nor does what happens to the very important fish with which the two share their little world, and which all are given well-deserved credits, as does their wrangler.)
A two-actor, cast in a sealed environment, would perhaps lend itself better to being a stage play. As a film, it is plenty diverting, but it probably goes on a little longer (through at least a couple too many of those waves of tension and release) than is ideal. Using a single set also poses cinematographic challenges, though these are on the whole quite well handled, making the film perhaps more watchable than you might expect. The ending is a bit arbitrary -- it's like the dynamics between the two are a kind of perpetual-motion machine that can only be stopped by, well, simply stopping it. But it's all great fun while it's happening. Even though, if you do stop and think about it, having these two guys be (maybe) the last humans is a also a pretty depressing thought.
The two survive on a limited supply of before-times foods, both of the edible (in cans) and cultural kinds (Nitendo, pop music on vinyl, some books, some old videos and a set of Shakespeare sitting unread on the shelf stand in for all that is left of world civilization), and by keeping up a steady stream of humorous-aggressive banter that builds up to the breaking point and then (since they are apparently doomed to live together in a Sartrean, or Beckettesque, no-exit dyad until their deaths) recedes, in carefully-timed, almost operatic, waves of aggression and affection . They have, we learn, been close since childhood. That they are both American (very) is obvious, yet that one of them (the smarter one) is Black and the other (the more successful one, of course) is white is never mentioned or explored -- it just is, like so much in this odd, but affecting, film.
It helps that the Sterling K. Brown and Mark Duplass (a co-writer and the originator of this baroque and perhaps overwritten screenplay) have a lot of the chemistry and verve (if not always the perfect timing) of Jack Lemmon and Walter Matthau, the original Odd Couple, and so the many terrific jokes (against the grimmest possible backdrop) are brought off with real brio, keeping things mostly light (interspersed with those moments of tension) and the audience laughter flowing.
Needless to say, the sexual discomfort of two straight American bros flung into claustrophobic intimacy will lead into dangerous challenges to gender assumptions. Calling each other "dude" serves as a talisman, the crucifix and holy water that ward off the unthinkable, until things take a turn for the immensely bizarre. Since the filmmakers are hugely sensitive about spoilers and desperate that those who have seen the film keep the actual plot lines secret, I'll say no more about that side of things, but what happens does allow for some serious reflection on those themes, if you care to look beyond the gags. Even though, again, what actually happens doesn't make a lot of sense if you think about it very hard or even not very. (Nor does what happens to the very important fish with which the two share their little world, and which all are given well-deserved credits, as does their wrangler.)
A two-actor, cast in a sealed environment, would perhaps lend itself better to being a stage play. As a film, it is plenty diverting, but it probably goes on a little longer (through at least a couple too many of those waves of tension and release) than is ideal. Using a single set also poses cinematographic challenges, though these are on the whole quite well handled, making the film perhaps more watchable than you might expect. The ending is a bit arbitrary -- it's like the dynamics between the two are a kind of perpetual-motion machine that can only be stopped by, well, simply stopping it. But it's all great fun while it's happening. Even though, if you do stop and think about it, having these two guys be (maybe) the last humans is a also a pretty depressing thought.