What Are Friends For?

As if the title of his beloved but canceled TV show "Freaks and Geeks" wasn't clear enough, Judd Apatow is in the business of celebrating the anti-hero. With a crude yet heartwarming style, he tries to convince men that it's not so bad to be the 40-year-old virgin, and women that maybe being knocked up isn't such a bad thing after all. As anyone who watches TV commercials or catches themselves staring at subway ads already knows, "Superbad" is being billed as just another Apatow joint, starring that weird, overweight, curly-haired guy who made a cameo as an Internet shopper in "The 40 Year-Old Virgin" and as a stoned roommate suffering from pinkeye in "Knocked Up."

But "Superbad" is missing something essential: Namely Mr. Apatow himself, who serves here as a producer. The film is directed by Greg Mottola, best known for helming a trio of "Arrested Development" episodes, and it's written by regular Apatow collaborators Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg, the former the star of "Knocked Up," the latter a producer on that film. Yet from the outset, one gets the sense that the yin-and-yang of the previous Apatow projects — the unlikely way curses were mixed into scenes of romantic cuddling, and the way women were often denigrated and celebrated in a single scene — have been replaced by the yuck-and-yawn antics of the routine teenage road-trip.

What we have here is a collection of penis and fart jokes without Mr. Apatow's accompanying interest in the nature of sexuality and humiliation. "The 40-Year-Old Virgin" and "Knocked Up" were slyly sophisticated, and no film proves that more than "Superbad," which points out the failures that go with letting the inmates run the asylum.

Or instead of inmates, maybe just overgrown children. At the center of "Superbad" is a wistful recollection of the stressful final days of high school, when one period of insecurity and confusion segues in another period of insecurity and confusion. We arrive at this crossroads with Evan (Michael Cera, from TV's "Arrested Development") and Seth (Jonah Hill) — note the use of the authors' own names — and marvel at just how furiously they refuse to go gently into that good night. Determined to find women, sex, and, thus, validation before taking the plunge into the college world (smarty-pants Evan is headed for Dartmouth while boneheaded Seth is going to State), the two outcasts are elated and mortified to learn that their respective love interests will be present at an upcoming party.

Determined to get their girls booze — conversation is always better while buzzed — the guys turn to the nerdy third musketeer, Fogell (newcomer Christopher Mintz-Plasse, who steals the show), to put his fake I.D. to use. As Fogell nervously walks in to the liquor depot, Evan and Seth realize that they've handed over everything — not just $100, but their lone chance at happiness— to the nerdy guy with glasses and a Hawaiian driver's license with only the name "McLovin" on it.

It's in the liquor store parking lot, some 20 minutes into "Superbad," that things start to fall apart, and a humorous platonic buddy romance is replaced by a scattered and flailing road-trip comedy — and a seemingly endless one at that, as an impressive parade of stunts and misunderstandings keep our heroes from reaching their drunken women at the end of the rainbow.

Not that the film doesn't have a few interesting elements — some intended, most not — going for it. Most clearly, there's the successful obliteration of one of Hollywood's top assumptions: that audiences want to look up at the screen and see the beautiful and the alluring, the idealized versions of ourselves, staring back. Instead, what started with Will Ferrell and has continued with Steve Carell, Mr. Rogen and, finally, Mr. Hill, is the de-glamorization of the leading man. Mr. Hill, as well as just about every other male in this movie, looks awkward, sounds awkward, and acts awkward, yet he is still relatable to the guys in the audience. It's an interesting myth for the new male-dominated romantic comedy: No matter what the man acts like or looks like, he still has something deep down that every gorgeous woman wants.

The most intriguing dimension of "Superbad," however, is how deliberately it brings the notion of the buddy romance to the fore. Seth and Evan really prefer to spend their Saturday nights chugging beers with a bunch of friends, making "Superbad" less a story about one last high school romp than about two young guys trying to stave off the prospect of castration at the hands of a female. There's a reason that Fogell ends up in the catbird seat: He's the nerd who thinks he doesn't have a chance with women, and therefore he's the one who rises above the silly romantic games and gets everything he wants in the end.

Deep down, Evan and Seth just want to be with each other — a subtle point made obvious when Seth draws an endless array of penises in his notebook, and drunkenly tells Evan one night that he wants to profess his love for his best friend from the rooftops. "Superbad" as a comedy is eminently forgettable, but as a character study it has its moments: Near the end, as Seth and Evan are pulled apart by two girls, there's something unmistakably heartfelt as the two glance back at each other. Call it this century's woman-hating version of "Manhattan," the confused boys realizing that their time has passed, and that they now have to make do with a companion from the lesser sex.