Raw, adjective: 5. crude in quality or character; not tempered or refined by art or taste: raw humor.

Last night I saw Judd Apatow's newest, "Knocked Up." It was - just as I'd expected - charming, funny, and sweet. Katherine Heigl of Grey's Anatomy is lovely, and Seth Rogen unabashedly endearing, and Leslie Mann is great as the twitchily tense older sister. And at this point, between his Apatow work and his darker Neil Labute-style stuff, I pretty much want to have Paul Rudd's babies. He's great, per usual, in this one. And the soundtrack's solid, too. I just wish I hadn't read as many reviews beforehand as I did - kind of killed a few of the good jokes. So just go see it.

And then read this piece on Apatow from last week's NY Times Magazine. It's long, and sometimes a little dry, but revealing to a degree about a guy who's surely just cemented his place in the world of Hollywood comedy. I've gotta say, I appreciate the way this dude can weave some deep and dark wisdom into what looks ostensibly like light comedy. I found myself haltingly affected by a few of the lines in this film, and really appreciated the way he delved into Mann & Rudd's marriage to once again skewer a lot of the fairytale myths about notions of suburban bliss. Apatow complicates things in a way many screenwriters don't, and his characters show depth that you don't expect, and that's a persistently pleasant surprise. The scenes between Mann & Rudd in particular made me wince, because I've seen and heard those conversations amongst friends in real life...and nothing's easy, and no one's the guilty party necessarily, and yet everyone's a little miserable, and what can you do about that?

It'll make more sense if you see the film. But do, definitely do. If only for the charm of the scene where Rudd and Rogen are high on 'shrooms in a Vegas hotel room.


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