Cinema from the Spectrum

If you’ve read a newspaper in the past few years, chances are you’ve come across stories about the growing epidemic of male loneliness. A 2020 survey revealed that younger men, particularly those in individualistic cultures, have been hit hardest. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the United States—a country already known for its inadequate mental health support. So where am I going with this?

Well, it just so happens that Andrew DeYoung, in his feature film directorial debut—after a career largely spent in television directing episodes of Our Flag Means Death, I Love That for You, PEN15, and the Emmy-nominated TV special Would It Kill You to Laugh?—has chosen to center his first film, Friendship, around exactly this issue.

The film follows Craig Waterman (Tim Robinson), a socially awkward marketing executive who develops an unhealthy, borderline obsessive desire to befriend his new next-door neighbor, Austin Carmichael (Paul Rudd). At the same time, Craig is trying to navigate a marriage fraying at the edges and a distant relationship with his teenage son.

Rudd plays Austin as a confident, suave, and charismatic man—the kind of guy everyone gravitates toward. But as the film progresses, we begin to sense that Austin is hiding something, a secret that could upend his carefully managed personal life if revealed. This contrast between Austin’s smooth exterior and Craig’s erratic, uncomfortable energy creates the central tension of the film and adds a layer of moral ambiguity. Neither man is entirely stable, and both are masking a form of desperation.

Kate Mara and Jack Dylan Grazer have less screen time, but both make strong impressions. Grazer plays Steven, Craig’s son, as a fairly typical awkward teenage boy—withdrawn, a little sarcastic, and clearly struggling to connect with his emotionally distant father. His character could have used more development, but even in limited scenes, there’s authenticity in the way he embodies that adolescent mix of detachment and yearning. Mara, meanwhile, brings quiet resolve to Tami, Craig’s wife. Having just come through cancer treatment, she’s starting to reconsider what she wants out of life—and whether Craig is still the right person to be in it.

Visually, Friendship stands out in a way that deepens its unease. The film recalls the tone of Todd Solondz and David Lynch. One reason for this is the work of cinematographer Andy Rydzewski, whose lens gives the film a texture that’s hard to believe was shot digitally. The color grading gives it the feel of a real film—grainy, slightly off-kilter, saturated in a way that evokes psychological discomfort. There are lingering, often agonizing zoom-ins, and the camera is frequently allowed to sit uncomfortably long on a subject, forcing the viewer to stay with moments that would normally be cut away from.

One particularly haunting scene near the end—where Craig confronts Austin—feels like it could’ve come straight out of the opening of Happiness, where Jon Lovitz and Jane Adams have their painfully raw breakup. That’s the kind of discomfort DeYoung and his team seem willing to mine, and it’s often effective.

This film wouldn’t work without the cast that DeYoung assembled. Tim Robinson, best known for his sketch comedy work, is almost alarmingly good as Craig. He leans fully into the character’s manic awkwardness, willing to be cringeworthy, confrontational, and unfiltered. But he also allows us moments of sympathy—enough to make us question who’s really in the wrong. In an era where people are quick to ghost or cut off others over a single off-putting moment (full disclosure: I’ve been there), Friendship explores what happens when one of those cast-off people keeps pushing back—desperate for connection, unable to read the room, and ultimately unable to let go.

Still, Friendship isn’t without flaws. The film is occasionally disjointed in tone and structure, and it doesn’t always deliver a clear message. At times, it feels like it wants to be a psychological character study, other times a dark comedy, and at others a straight-up social critique. But what does come through is DeYoung’s central theme: the disturbing emotional territory of one-sided friendship—when someone wants connection so badly, they ignore every signal that it’s unwanted. That discomfort is the core of the film, and it lingers long after the credits roll.

Ultimately, Friendship is an offbeat and often unsettling film, but it’s also timely. It taps into something very real about the way people—especially men—struggle to ask for help, to admit vulnerability, or to simply say, “I need a friend.” That message might not land cleanly for everyone, but in a culture where loneliness is epidemic, it’s a film worth sitting with, even if it doesn’t always go down easy.

Watch the trailer right here.

All images via A24.

Directed by Andrew DeYoung
Screenplay by Andrew DeYoung
Produced by Raphael Margules, J.D. Lifshitz, Johnny Holland and Nick Weidenfeld
Starring Tim Robinson, Paul Rudd, Kate Mara, Jack Dylan Grazer
Premiere Date: September 8, 2024
Running Time: 100 minutes