Amy Schumer mined her stand up routine to write Trainwreck. Directed by Judd Apatow (Knocked Up, Forty-Year-Old Virgin), the film also stars Schumer as her namesake, Amy, a trainwreck-postersexually ravenous pot-head who writes for a breezy magazine geared to the sports addicted, adult male. Her story assignment is a sports doctor (Bill Hader) who has gained fame by surgically repairing famous athletes’ joints, limbs and tendons. For unknown reasons he hasn’t had sex in five years. The film is a spoof on the uncommitted reckless bachelor meets good girl story but this time around the genders are switched: it is Amy who fears intimacy.

Can she commit? This is the central dilemma. From the outset you can see where the film is going. There are a few memorable chuckles especially relating to Amy’s fear of intimacy. She never sleeps overnight and hates spooning. “I am exiting this hug,” she says when a group hug feels creepy.

The film should be lauded for inverting male-female relationship stereotypes but the broad sketch comedy style relies on finding gags rather letting Amy find poignant moments naturally. Perhaps Lena Dunham (Girls), Apatow’s other lustrous protégé, would have fared better with this material. The movie is consumed in the way that one devours a bucket of fried chicken—a guilty pleasure, enjoyable for the moment, but difficult to embrace as the full meal. At times it feels more like Saturday Night Live schtick than a subversive rom-com with memorable anti-heroine who almost commits.



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