“It may be a bit, um, premature to say so, but Judd Apatow‘s Knocked Up strikes me as an instant classic,” N.Y. Times critic A.O. Scott wrote yesterday, calling it “a comedy that captures the sexual confusion and moral ambivalence of our moment without straining, pandering or preaching.”
No straining, that is, except for that believability issue that I wrote about twice and was shouted down for from every corner of the globe. I’m speaking (for the third and last time, I swear) about a mature, well-employed hottie who looks like Katherine Heigl going for a drunken one-night-stand with a layabout who looks like Seth Rogen. Wouldn’t happen, couldn’t happen..absolutely no way in hell. But everyone’s loving the movie so the issue is moot. I enjoyed and respected this film a great deal, but I couldn’t let it go. I tried to push it away but it kept poking me in the ribs and breathing in my face.
“Like The 40-Year-Old Virgin, it attaches dirty humor to a basically upright premise,” Scott continues. “While this movie’s barrage of gynecology-inspired jokes would have driven the prudes at the old Hays Office mad, its story, about a young man trying to do what used to be the very definition of the Right Thing, might equally have brought a smile of approval to the lips of the starchiest old-Hollywood censor.”
“The wonder of Knocked Up is that it never scolds or sneers. It is sharp but not mean, sweet but not soft, and for all its rowdy obscenity it rarely feels coarse or crude. What it does feel is honest: about love, about sex, and above all about the built-in discrepancies between what men and women expect from each other and what they are likely to get.”