No, that’s not deja vu, we’ve already been here before thanks to Ashton Kutcher and Natalie Portman in ‘No Strings Attached’, released earlier this year. The fact that ‘Strings’ relied largely on Kutcher’s charm and Portman’s comedic chops probably tells you everything you need to know about that earlier effort.
So why bother with a retread that swaps Portman for her predatory Black Swan nemesis Mila Kunis, and Kutcher for former boyband member Justin Timberlake? In a nutshell, the three C’s: Comedy, Chemistry and C…unning linguistics.
Like a number of recent rom coms there are frequent opportunities to admire both Kunis and Timberlake in the near buff (allowing audience members to salivate and self-loathe at the same time). Naturally, there are also sex jokes aplenty, although mercifully, a refreshing lack of the bodily fluid gags more often designed to provoke disgust than mirth, which crop up with such unpleasant and unfunny frequency of late. There are jokes that flounder, but the script largely hits the mark, even if certain plot devices (would a senior member of staff on a web based magazine really need to have a flash mob explained to him?) are a little laboured. Even the subplots (Alzheimer’s and a fighting contender for the Rubbish Mother of the Year Award), which could have been dreadfully saccharine or simply tedious distractions, provide some of the more heartfelt moments in the film, thanks in no small part to sterling support from the brilliant Patricia Clarkson and Richard Jenkins.
In fact, FWB’s biggest niggle has nothing to do with the plot, the script, the acting, or even the laughable idea that either Kunis or Timberlake would be involuntarily single for more than 30 seconds. No, it’s simply the fact that no two people that young should be that wealthy and successful, with such infeasibly large apartments to boot.
Much like its protagonists, FWB coyly pretends to do something unconventional while adhering to the rules, clinging like a limpet to the bloated romantic expectations it pretends to mock. Which is why, like any rom com, its appeal boils down to how much the audience will root for the ultimately happy couple. And Kunis and Timberlake are very easy to root for. Coital humour notwithstanding, Kunis is funny and vulnerable, arguably at her sexiest when she’s not strutting around in her underwear. By the same token, while I never quite repressed the thought of Timberlake’s parallel existence as the most successful member of Nsync, his performance (his first lead role since impressing in The Social Network) is all emotional distance and puppy dog eyes, tempered with no small amount of natural charm.
The shift from friends with benefits to more than friends is inevitable, but it is at least believable. This isn’t When Harry Met Sally (nothing is), but it is one of the more enjoyably formulaic date movies to roll into cinemas for a good long while. Judging by the timbre of the laughter, some jokes will appeal more to one gender than the other, but the point is: everyone laughed. So whether your overriding interest is in Timberlake’s abs, Kunis’ underwear or simply a happy ending, these Friends come with definite Benefits.
