The title, like Brooks' overriding sense of humor, is bluntly on-point and deviously ironic. It also deserves its deceptively ambitious title, honestly capturing the tone of post-lib relationships. This film is cynical but desirous of romance, informed by jealousy and fits of unrestrained devotion. Funny and devastating, often at the same time.
About two people who believe that because they've got the sex part down that's reason enough to be a couple. Hilarious. Throw in some great moviemaking humor and a terrific little scene with Albert's brother, Bob "Super Dave" Einstein ("Waddya gonna do? You gonna run broke?") and you have, for me, Brooks' best film.
Albert Brooks' Whiskey Sour: the jealous lover's libation of choice. Two parts powdered Quaaludes, one part whiskey, a wee dram of caustic soda and a healthy glug of Angostura bitters. Best served with the relationship on the rocks.
I just wish Mary had been more active/less of a cliche or Robert's psychosis had been more obvious to everyone else. I feel like the tone should have been more biting/satirical. However, the commentary on filmmaking was on point. "You might be right, but do it the other way."
Surprisingly disturbing viewing. There is a knowingness to Brooks's approach and the conceit of an editor treating his life and others like his work is clever. His portrayal of jealousy and narcissism is both funny and discomfiting. However, the objectified position of Mary seems less than fully thought through and by the end the sexual politics leave a very unpleasant taste - more so than I suspect Brooks intended.
Obnoxious main character in a film that has aged poorly. This is not a film about love, but about a stupid, self-absorbed man with no redeeming features and his relationship of obsession and possession with his on-and-off girlfriend. The story and the female character lack any depth, and there is a repetition of sexist clichés and dangerous attitudes towards women, which make the film impossible to like nowadays.