Comedies are, by and large, notoriously hit-and-miss propositions.
You are either presented with a witty laugh-out-loud script, ripe with side-clutching comedic possibilities that is rendered mute and barely tolerable by actors who are unable to bring the words to life with sufficient verve or timing, or you have highly talented actors struggling to coax a giggle or two from lines that were clearly written by a committee of dour accountants who thought they were being funny.
Or, alas, sometimes, you have both.
Thankfully, Gayby is that happy coincidence of smart, fast-paced scripting with believable characters equipped with the sort of zingy one liners we all wish we could produce at a moment’s notice brought to hilarious life by actors who not only have a flair for comic timing, but can invest the necessary humanity into the roles too.
For great comedy, if it is to truly have any impact, must say something, however fleeting, about the human condition, and it is clear that writer and director Jonathan Lisecki, who also has a supporting role as one of the lead character’s best friend Nelson (and a handy way with “feminine bear” lines), knows this better than most.
Because while Gayby is hilarious, with witty observations and acerbic one liners flying so thick and fast that you’re still laughing hard when the next one is delivered ( which we all know effectively mandates a second viewing, or even a third), it also has great big helpings of warmth and humanity and a sense that these people really care about each other.
And that’s what marks out this comedy as one of the funniest, and insightful, I have seen in years.
Centring on the friendship of yoga instructor Jenn (Jenn Harris) and gay graphic novelist/comic bookstore worker Matt (Matthew Wilkas), who are close friends of long standing in real life which accounts for their familiar, rich chemistry on screen, the movie swiftly establishes, via a somewhat tetchy conversation between Jenn and her accomplished married well-off hairdresser sister Kelly (Anne Margaret Hollyman), that the single New Yorker’s biological clock is ticking loudly and that she thinks that Matt could be the one to silence it.
Fresh from a relationship breakup with Tom (Zach Schaffer), a rising light in the comic book publishing industry, who Matt does his best to avoid by changing shifts at the store (at least until he finally gets the courage to ask him to shop elsewhere), Matt readily agrees and he and Jenn embark on an awkward attempt to produce this much-longer for child.
The old-fashioned way.
While Matt is unfazed by the prospect of having sex with a woman – “I’m a man. We’ll put it in anything” – and Jenn pragmatically accepts it’s what needs to be done to get the desired result, the initial scenes of them in bed negotiating their way to a mode of sexual congress that suits them is priceless, and worth the price of admission alone (as is the later scenes involving a syringe, Matt’s “boys” and oddest gynaecological examination you’re likely to ever see in a movie anywhere).
Jenn Harris particularly has a gift for awkward physical and verbal comedy that she puts to devastatingly good effect in a number of scenes throughout the film including the aforementioned bedroom scenes, and a later attempt near the end of the movie to make up with Matt after the inevitable and mandatory rom-com-esque falling out that is given a fresh lease of life by Jenn and Matt’s perfect comic timing.
That they do go on to conceive a child is almost a foregone conclusion but the path to this happy and much-desired place is fraught with emotional missteps, sex with the wrong people (Jenn accidentally sleeps, while drunk, with her boss’s brother who is painting her apartment he “feels it”, in one of the funnier scenes of the film) , dating misadventures, advice from all manner of strong, well-crafted supporting players – chief among them Nelson, and Jenn’s gay best friend at work, Jamie played by Jack Ferver – who hold their own with the leads, a rare feat in this type of movie, and one gigantic hurtful reveal that threatens to imperil the future of Jenn and Matt’s BFF relationship.
But as you might expect, they come through this myriad of obstacles with friendship, witty one-liners and their sense of basic humanity thoroughly intact, and new loves found, and yes, live happily ever after.
What is most noteworthy about this movie, apart from its ability to prise a seemingly endless stream of laugh-out-loud moments from me (a rarity with most comedies), is that it doesn’t sacrifice first rate character development or believable narrative twists- and-turns on the altar of cheap and easy laughs.
It would be tempting to do so with this many whip-smart, wise-cracking characters all jostling for their moment in the comedic sun, but Jonathan Lisecki keeps his eyes firmly on the ball and draws the comedy firmly out of an engaging storyline and believable, flawed but ultimately quite likeable people, who you genuinely want to root for, as they do their best to navigate the intricacies of friendships and love in the 21st century.
At its core Gayby, while hilarious from start to finish, is that very rare beast – a comedy that leaves you laughing like a fool for hours afterwards while providing food for thought and nourishing your soul.
It’s timely reminder that comedy done well can be ever bit as enriching an experience as the finest Oscar-worthy, issues-laden drama.