In the Spring of 2019, the realities of twenty-something-year-old, mustached men with clear-framed glasses forever shifted, and friend groups everywhere became defined by one thing and one thing only: how many I Think You Should Leave references can be worked into every statement. Former SNL cast member Tim Robinson’s sketch comedy show hit the ground running at Netflix, and it instantly became a cult classic. I Think You Should Leave launched Tim Robinson into stardom, and while it has received critical acclaim—and multiple Emmy™ awards—its popularity is, in part, due to the proliferation of the show’s jokes by male friend groups. And Robinson’s feature-length debut as a leading man in Andrew DeYoung’s Friendship will surely be no different.

Friendship follows the life of cuck husband Craig Waterman (Tim Robinson) in his pursuit of both a rebuilt marriage and a male friend group. The film opens with an extreme close-up of Craig’s wife Tami (Kate Mara), as she sits in a group therapy session and details her struggles with battling cancer and inability to climax during sex. As she spills her heart out, the camera slowly pans to a crazy-eyed, goofy-faced Tim Robinson. I’ll admit—I started laughing before he even spoke. A glimpse of his face was enough to bring back memories of every single character he ever played in I Think You Should Leave. That being said, I do think the film’s efficacy almost entirely hinges on the audience’s fondness of Robinson and his humor. For someone unfamiliar with Robinson’s prowess or offbeat, absurdist humor, this film might fall flat. However, I do think Andrew DeYoung knows his audience, and I do think he knows their loyalty to Robinson will help sell tickets (I’ve already seen it twice in theaters).

After Craig Waterman meets his totally cool, rockstar-weatherman neighbor Austin Carmichael (Paul Rudd), he starts to get exposed to a lifestyle filled with hobbies, style, and most importantly, the movie’s namesake—friendship. The early days of Craig and Austin’s friendship is flooded with spontaneous hangouts, mini adventures, and rock/punk jam sessions. After Craig makes one-too-many weird jokes and outs himself as a social pariah, Austin and his decades-long friend group waste no time in completely shunning Craig. Desperate to feel that friendship joy again, Craig recreates his and Austin’s hangouts with Tami and his son, Steven (Jack Dylan Grazer). Obviously, Craig’s lack of grace and charm lead to a comedy of errors, and naturally, Tami gets lost in the sewers underneath their town—Clovis, USA—leading to a town-wide manhunt to find her.

The plot boasts an absurdity that, in and of itself, is enough to laugh at, but it is Tim Robinson who, per usual, steals the show. Not only is the role of Craig Waterman proverbially written for Robinson, but—per Andrew DeYoung himself—it was literally written for Tim Robinson; DeYoung essentially created a feature-length episode of I Think You Should Leave.

As a fan of all-things-Robinson, I was never bored during this film. I can admit the pacing didn’t make much sense at times, but it was that exact, frenetic pacing that created an all-over-the-place, absurdist tone that scratches a particular itch in my brain. The film constantly asks the audience: “are you in on the joke?” To the untrained eye, the jokes won’t make any sense—they won’t have any punchline. “Why did I sit there and watch a 15-minute scene of Tim Robinson tripping on a psychedelic drug and hallucinate going to a Subway™ and ordering a sandwich? In what way did that progress the plot?” you might ask yourself. The answer: it doesn’t.

There is also no need for this film to be as visually stunning as it is. Some might view the film’s crafty editing, beautiful coloring, and synth-heavy soundtrack as a waste on such an inane storyline, but the sharpness of the visual and auditory filmmaking contrasts the absurdity of the plot and performances perfectly. That right there is, yet another, joke. The film does not take itself too seriously, and the viewer should not either. The jokes in this film purposely waste the viewers’ time, and if the viewer is not open to laughing at nothing except stupidity, this will surely be a long 1 hour and 40 minutes.

Friendship is an absurdist comedy that hardly deviates from the form and content of a singular I Think You Should Leave episode. Its premise seeks to highlight the different male archetypes—the weird tactless father, the too-cool-for-school weatherman, the nerdy and horny son with a Freudian relationship with his mom, the office douchebag, the dad with a big-breasted teenage daughter who has to tell all his friends about it, the town mayor, the random guy at a party who no one knows and who probably wasn’t invited but ends up stealing the entire show (Conner O’Malley). Overall, Friendship shows how many male friendships are a little funny, but I think that’s it. I don’t think the film should be given any deeper consideration. It’s a goofy yet artistic film—just call a spade a spade and enjoy yourself.

Friendship is a testament to the skill of Robinson as a performer and comedian. He brings the script to life, and Andrew DeYoung very clearly knew what he was doing. He hitched himself to a good horse, and now the Tim Robinson fandom will do the marketing for him. Let’s face it: that’s exactly what I’m doing right now. Like I said earlier, I’ve already seen this movie in theaters twice with two different friends, and I have plans to see it with more. In the end, though, I can only leave you guys with this: I don’t think we should’ve pulled out of Afghanistan.

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