A Few Thoughts on Trainwreck…
When I heard that Amy Schumer was partnering with Judd Apatow on a romantic comedy, my heart expanded three sizes. The prospect of a sharp, bawdy and unabashedly feminist comedian like Schumer starring in her own tentpole summer release thrilled me to no end. On the surface, it almost seemed as though scientists had slaved away in a laboratory in order to come up with a film that they knew I would rewatch every Christmas in my pyjamas.
So you can imagine how disappointed I was when I didn’t like Trainwreck.
First of all, Trainwreck isn’t a bad movie, per se, and you certainly wouldn’t resent paying money to see it. The audience I saw it with were utterly enthralled, and practically gasping for air they were laughing so hard. My problem with Trainwreck, however, is that it doesn’t feel like an Amy Schumer film. It feels like a Judd Apatow film.
Where Inside Amy Schumer is progressive, edgy and provocative, many of Apatow’s films are quite dull and conservative in their outlook. Sure, they might feature characters cursing and smoking weed, but the notion that monogamous relationships are the salvation of humankind still prevails. In Apatowland, singlehood is presented as being a type of purgatory where everyone must reside before finally realising the error of their ways, ditching the bong and settling down. And so we have Trainwreck, a film in which Schumer’s character is portrayed as being a literal human crash because she enjoys a few drinks and having sex. (Very average adult activities, if you ask me.) In Apatow’s eyes, this value system simply isn’t compatible with married life and it has to be one or the other.
There’s a judgmental undercurrent that seems at odds with what Schumer’s comedy is supposed to represent. She’s described as a “trainwreck,” because she enjoys casual sex and going out. Sure, she might also be a doting daughter and relatively successful magazine writer with a nice apartment, but look at her doing a walk of shame and teetering in high heels! Haha, what a total mess! I’m reticent to accuse the film of slut-shaming, but there are certainly double standards at play. You can’t help but feel that, if the roles were reversed and Trainwreck were about a man, he would be labelled a “playboy” or “ladies man” as opposed to a “trainwreck”.
And so, instead of the subversive romantic comedy many of us might have been hoping for, we have scenes with Schumer’s character ridding her apartment of alcohol and renouncing her former lifestyle. She wears a more sensible dress. She bonds with her nephew. All in an effort to “grow up” and settle down with her safe, reliable boyfriend — the end goal for every woman, apparently.
The moralising isn’t all that’s wrong with Trainwreck. It’s about half an hour too long and too indulgent by half. Many jokes are ruined by extended periods of riffing. A storyline revolving around familial tension (“I want to put Dad in a cheaper nursing home”) is a little clunky in its execution. There are a number of superfluous cameos (is that you, Matthew Broderick?) that just kind of feel like Apatow called in a few favours because, fuck it, why not? All of these are familiar hallmarks of Apatow’s films, hence why I’m reluctant to pin all the blame on Schumer.
Don’t get me wrong: Trainwreck is not without its pleasures. But it seems that under Judd Apatow’s tutelage, Amy Schumer has had to sacrifice some of her bite and produce something that’s more reflective of Apatow’s sensibilities than her own. This film might make her a star, but I think (and sincerely hope) her best is yet to come.
