I have a confession to make. I am a Paul Rudd whore. There are few things that bring me more pleasure than settling down to watch Role Models or I Love You, Man. Sometimes I dab a little Sex Panther behind each ear just so I can smell like him. And if I ever get a chance to meet James Westfall and Dr. Kenneth Noisewater*, I will not hesitate to …well, I’ll keep that little fantasy to myself for my private online blog (www.thingsidliketojuggle).

So I went into Our Idiot Brother with a little bias, and because of that, I can’t say that this review is entirely fair and balanced. I liked this movie because of Paul Rudd and not so much because of the script or other actors. The film is bit of a departure from the wacky comedies that Rudd is known for, but it still has a gentle comedic spirit that kept me chuckling throughout. The plot is loosely based on Checkov’s The Three Sisters and involves a cheerful slacker named Ned and his relationships with each of his three siblings. Although his intentions are good, Ned doesn’t seem to thoroughly think through some of his actions, and keeps screwing up other people’s lives. The “idiot” moniker may be a tad strong; it’s more likely that Ned has been perpetually stoned for the past twelve years and that drives his decision making. Much of the plot revolves around his attempts to get his dog, Willie Nelson, back from his hostile ex-girlfriend, and if you can’t enjoy a movie with Paul Rudd and a Golden Retriever, well, it’s possible that you just may be a communist.

I saw this movie a few weeks ago, and although I remember that I liked it, I can’t remember anything else about it. I know it would be an excellent film to watch while laying on a couch, but I guess that’s not exactly a ringing endorsement.

Maybe I’m just tired. I’ve been to a lot of movies in the past few months, many of them involving robots, and you all know how I feel about robots. We’re at the end of the summer movie season, and I think film fatigue may be setting in. I’m looking forward to fall and the Oscar contenders starting, and hoping that the indie directors have packed up their tripods along with the special effects, because otherwise this website is starting to seem a little silly. I came into this endeavor with the intention of puking, and by God, puke I will, even if I have to go watch Cloverfield again.

Barf Bag rating: ZERO Bags
Jalapeno Rating: ZERO Peppers

*”I know what you’re asking yourself and the answer is yes. I have a nick name for my penis. Its called the Octagon, but I also nick named my testes – my left one is James Westfall and my right one is Dr. Kenneth Noisewater. You ladies play your cards right you just might get to meet the whole gang.”
Brian Fontana in Anchorman

Plus he’s a fabulous dancer!