Jason Segel follows Seth Rogen as the next Judd Apatow-produced regular to be an unlikely leading man and show off solid writing chops—this time, in the same movie. Following the forgettable “Drillbit Taylor,” this raunchy and sweet romantic comedy shows that as long as Apatow keeps mining the cast and crews of his old TV shows “Freaks and Geeks” and “Undeclared,” that he’ll more often than not be able to deliver the startlingly frank brand of humor he has become known for lately.

Directed by Nicholas Stoller (a writer for “Undeclared”), “Forgetting Sarah Marshall” follows a heartbroken puppy-dog named Peter after being dumped by his famous TV-actress girlfriend, Sarah Marshall (Kirsten Bell). It turns out Peter is a non-motivated musician who is coasting because he can, since he landed the plum job of creating cheesy, brooding “mood music” for Sarah’s “C.S.I”-style prime time detective show.

Like “Knocked Up,” it does stretch believability to have a dumpy guy going out with a gorgeous TV star, but average-looking guys like me should thank Apatow and his stable of wish-fulfillment writers and actors for making it seem a little more likely that this kind of thing happens.

It is too convenient to have sad-sack Peter go on a vacation by himself in Hawaii at the urging of his happily-married cousin (Bill Hader) and then unknowingly end up at the same hotel as his ex and her new British rock star boyfriend, Aldous Snow (Russell Brand). But this is easy to forgive, because in the confines of this typical set-up, Segel and company score over and over again with terrifically witty interplay and very funny situations.

Like Apatow and Seth Rogen before him, Segel nails the comedy so perfectly because he sticks to what he knows. Not only is the raunchiness a full-force part of the script, integrated seamlessly with that inherent sweetness that makes it all go down a little easier, but Segel also lampoons the hell out of Hollywood types—people with that unique mix of egotism and lack of self-confidence that comes with having jobs in the entertainment industry. (Segel’s most recent gig is on the sitcom “How I Met Your Mother,” while Bell is a veteran of “Veronica Mars.”)

In an earlier SXSW blog, I raved about how in “The Promotion,” starring John C. Reilly and Seann Wiliam Scott as two grocery store managers vying for the same job, neither character was a villian. “Forgetting Sarah Marshall” plays a delicate balancing act the entire time as well. As in most break-ups (depending on who’s side you take), one person looks evil and the other completely sympathetic. That is, until the details about the relationship known only to the two start to come out. During the course of this film, there’s a subtle switch happening that allows both characters to showcase their weak sides.

It all culminates with an indefensible act that is uncomfortably (and ingeniously) played for laughs. Like the infamous pregnant bedroom scene in “Knocked Up,” Segel breaks down another sacred behind-closed-doors sex situation that no one likes to talk about, and ends up with a classic memorable moment.

A super-solid supporting cast including Hader, Jonah Hill, Paul Rudd, and Mila Kunis (“That 70’s Show”)—who is a real eye-opener in a tricky role—navigate the audience through some unlikely twists and turns, making sure that the characters never delve into parody. British comedian Brand, who’s Richard Ashcroft-poutiness could have turned one-note faster than you can say “Bittersweet Symphony,” almost steals the entire show as laid-back rock star Aldous. Besides being the only truly confident character in the movie, he is so casual about his celebrity status that it makes his unexpectedly blunt remarks even more hilarious.

“Forgetting Sarah Marshall” may not contain all of the hardcore truths about modern male/female relationships that made “Knocked Up” so brilliant, but it has more than its fair share of uncomfortable and familiar situations. Segel’s characters talk like real people and Stoller’s direction keeps a close watch on their emotional trials, and a knowing eye on the punchline at all times.

Producer Apatow is creating a solid body of work (with the occasional misstep) that is approaching household-name familiarity. Like Christopher Guest’s stable of cult-favorite improv actors, the Apatow players make us smile by just entering the frame. The crowd in Austin at the enormous, sold-out Paramount Theater laughed heartily each time Rudd, Hill, or any other recognizable face showed up on the screen. The time of Meg Ryan, Tom Hanks, Julia Roberts, and Sandra Bullock has passed and the nerds and their too-hot dates have taken over. When people look back at this time in movie history, Apatow’s potent, frank, and sweet comedies will absolutley define this era of mainstream filmmaking.

Tags: austin, Bill Hader, Forgetting Sarah Marshall, Freaks and Geeks, Jason Segel, Jonah Hill, Kirsten Bell, Knocked Up, Mila Kunis, Nicholas Stoller, Paramount Theater, Paul Rudd, Russell Brand, SXSW, Undeclared

My third day at South by Southwest 2008 was a busy one. I was wandering in and out of panels all day. The Jeffrey Tambor acting workshop on how to properly direct actors was more than just a chance for the “Arrested Development” star to show how funny he is in real life, it actually was rather enlightening to watch him alternately push and protect two actors to get some “truth” out a simple scene.

Next I thought I’d duck into a Q&A session with AintItCool.com guru Harry Knowles interviewing notorious sci-fi author Harlan Ellison. It turns out that Ellison (below, in yellow) is a feisty and opinionated wind-up toy that, once you get him started, won’t stop for a little over two hours. Not that I’m complaining, mind you—I could have listened to stories about Ellison getting in fights with “Exorcist” director William Friedkin in a restaurant in Paris all day, but these film panels do have time limits. (It turns out Ellison was arguing that Friedkin’s widely-panned movie “Sorcerer” was a masterwork, while the director himself argued it was trash—and the rift stopped them from working together!)

After standing in line for half an hour to get free BBQ at the VH1 party, my friend Craig and I were finally admitted and rubbed shoulders with Tambor and Morgan Spurlock. Craig actually knocked into Tambor, whom he didn’t recognize, as we walked by and the actor was all smiles anyway. Craig met some friends, but I had business to attend to. I had to snarf my food fast and head over to the beautiful Paramount Theatre to see a low-key comedy about very average people called “The Promotion,” starring Seann William Scott, John C. Reilly, Jenna Fischer, and Lili Taylor.

Too often the actors in broad Hollywood comedies have to work way too hard for laughs. For instance, the new Will Ferrell movie, “Semi-Pro,” rested all hopes for funny business at the feet of its star in lieu of anything resembling a decent script or tone.

Writer/director Steve Conrad has a firm hold on both in “The Promotion.” Although he wrote “The Weather Man” and “The Pursuit of Happyness,” this is his directorial debut, and it’s nice to see someone go for a something new on their first outing. When I read the summary, I thought this would be some kind of wacky farce about the crazy things that two grocery store managers do to each other to try and get a raise. So I was pleasantly surprised to find that “The Promotion” isn’t all that interested in lots of yelling and kicking people in the nuts. Conrad wisely avoided what I like to call the “Dodgeball” curse.

Instead, he presents these guys with the utmost empathy. There are no big caricatures and no left-field developments just to up the stakes—in fact, both Scott and Reilly actually underplay the comedy to great effect.

With TV shows like “The Office” becoming mainstream in this country, uncomfortable humor is really starting to find its way. I predict that when this film is released, lots of critics who miss the point will complain about its muted tone. That tone was exactly what worked in “The Promotion,” and some of the funniest scenes come out of its characters’ deadpan reactions to the awful situations they find themselves in. But the key to this movie is that these guys aren’t bad guys. They don’t retaliate; they just keep getting up and trying again.

I wish I could say the same for Hank Azaria in the next movie I screened that night—David Schwimmer’s feature-length directorial debut “Run, Fatboy, Run.” While this film doesn’t suffer the from the hyper-antic “Dodgeball” disease (which may also find Rip Torn shouting and throwing wrenches for no apparent reason other than being desperate for laughs), this romantic comedy follows the Hollywood playbook to a tee. Poor Azaria is “the bad guy.” We know it; the hero knows it—if only the girl could see it! How could she be so blind to still date him?

You’ve seen it a million times before, but throwing the impeccable comic talent of British actor Simon Pegg (“Shaun of the Dead,” “Hot Fuzz”) into the mix somehow makes “Run, Fatboy, Run” more watchable and a little less stale. Check it: A loser leaves his way-too-attractive, pregnant wife at the altar and tries to win her back many years later before it’s too late and she marries a real jerk. A marathon represents all the things in his life he started but never finished, so you can already guess what the ending is. There’s also a gambling, alcoholic sidekick whose bare butt appears two too many times, and a cute training montage where Pegg’s misfit friends get involved on the jungle gym.

Credit Pegg for inserting his smart brand of character-driven humor everywhere the script needed him (he polished up an old script by Michael Ian Black), and credit Schwimmer for keeping things moving quickly and efficiently. Watching “Run, Fatboy, Run” is like eating a solid meal of comfort food. Pegg proves that he may make the transition from cult comedian to leading man sooner than most might have thought, and he gives an edge to a movie that sorely needed one.

Schwimmer was there at the screening, as was Scott Conrad and Seann William Scott, for some Q&A following the pictures.

Next in my SXSW blog: I get lei’d!

Tags: 2006, david schwimmer, film festival, hank azaria, harlan ellison, john c. reilly, run fatboy run, seann william scott, simon pegg, steve conrad, SXSW, the promotion

When you wake suddenly from a dream about Doc Brown and Libyan terrorists who drive around in a VW bus to a loud, static-masked radio station at 7:30 am, you know it’s going to be a long day. (Confused? Read yesterday’s SXSW blog here.) A couple cups of coffee and one continental buffet breakfast later, however, and I was good to go—it really is America’s Best Value!

The Austin Convention Center hosted the SXSW panel discussions for both the Film and Interactive festival line-up. An interesting thing occurred at every film panel I attended, though. No matter where the talk started, it always seemed to get hi-jacked by questions and comments about online distribution, digital content, etc. No panel was complete, it seemed, unless the discussion took a hard left turn into Internet video. Am I the only one left who doesn’t like watching movies on a tiny screen with crappy sound?

The seemingly instantaneous growth of online video is amazing, and I’m right there with it, making shorts and reviews about anything I can get my hands on. But when it comes to a feature-length film, I still enjoy the theatrical experience above all else—except when I have to drive too far to go see it. Then again, it was a little over five years ago that I said I’d never stop shopping in record stores and look what happened.

As the panels continued well on into the day, I took a breather and caught another unsigned indie documentary that revolved around a bizarre American subculture—the obsessed Harry Potter fan.

Like Cameron Crowe’s classic 70s rock valentine “Almost Famous,” “We Are Wizards” explores what its like to be a true fan. The catch is that director Josh Koury believes hardcore fandom is a gateway drug to becoming your own creative person. He’s out to prove it with profiles of a new breed of musicians who call their brand of guitar-based noise “wizard rock.” Confused? The song lyrics take on a perspective of a beloved (Harry and the Potters) or hated (Draco and the Malfoys) character from Potter lore and the players are just almost listenable. Think Iron Maiden cribbing “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner,” but without all the musicianship and a way bigger sense of humor.

Because Koury doesn’t develop his subjects far enough beyond being amusing curiosities, the movie never quite takes flight, but some of them are quite charming, especially the DeGeorge brothers, who play Harry Year 4 and Harry Year 7 while onstage. One Harry Potter fan (movies only—never read the books!) had such an unhealthy obsession, the film argues, that he recorded his own alternate audio track to the “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone” movie. Brad Neely’s “fan art” goes far beyond that of the bands, and it seems like his twisted art career would have followed whether Potter ever existed or not. Regardless, his personal take on the characters is hilarious and a welcome respite from the geeky serious love of the other Potter freaks.

“We Are Wizards” is an interesting look into a cult I knew little about, and I dig the idea that reading a book can serve as inspiration to go out and do something.

After trying to hail a cab at the only dead intersection in all of downtown Austin, Craig and I finally made it to the South Lamar Alamo Drafthouse with seconds to spare before a showing of Alex Gibney’s hot-offa-Sundance documentary “Gonzo: The Life and Work of Dr. Hunter S. Thompson.” The celebrated filmmaker (who just won an Oscar for “Taxi to the Dark Side” a couple weeks ago) has successfully brought to life the work of a maverick and prescient writer who we will never see the likes of again.

Okay, I’ll admit, I’m a little biased, having read and enjoyed at least four of the man’s books. But—if anything—I would think that would make me a tougher audience, too. Gibney starts it off right, reading from a column Thompson wrote on September 11, 2001, where the off-kilter journalist, writing for ESPN, correctly predicted the aftermath of this terrible strike way before we were ready to even accept that it had even happened.

“It will be a Religious War, a sort of Christian Jihad, fueled by religious hatred and led by merciless fanatics on both sides. It will be guerilla warfare on a global scale, with no front lines and no identifiable enemy.” (Click here to read the full piece.)

Although he may have been slipping in his old age (a point that the movie doesn’t shy away from), that quote proves that even in his darkest hour, the man knew his stuff and could write it with more blunt truth than anyone else.

There’s a lot of ground to cover in “Gonzo,” and Gibney does it with the author’s own words, as read, appropriately, by Johnny Depp. But the documentarian is also smart enough to address the journalistic quandry of Thompson’s writing as well as its legend. At one point does the reporter become the story? Can “a salt shaker half full of cocaine and a whole galaxy of multicolored uppers, downers, screamers, laughers” actually illuminate the point or does that style of writing completely miss it? It should be obvious to anyone who watches “Gonzo” that Thompson’s perspective was challenging. And while it made for recklessly entertaining and thought-provoking writing, it was Hell on the home front.

“Gonzo” is at once a celebration of a genre-busting writer/rabble-rouser and an elegy for a time period when a freak like Thompson could get access to political leaders and actually affect some kind of radical change. Interviews with Jimmy Carter, George McGovern, and Pat Buchanan are particularly enlightening and “Gonzo” made wish we had someone like Raoul Duke embedded in the current presidential race, telling it like it is—or as they see it.

Next on Eric’s SXSW blog: Seann William Scott and David Schwimmer, oh my!

Tags: 2008, alex gibney, brad neely, draco and the malfoys, film festival, gonzo, harry and the potters, hunter s. thompson, interactive, josh koury, music, raoul duke, SXSW, we are wizards, wizard people

I’ve only been away from Austin, TX now for 24 hours, and I’ve got a huge hangover—not from drinking (although I did my fare share), but because the work at my job that didn’t get done while I was gone is piling up around me and threatening to bury me. There’s something liberating about listening to engaging panel discussions about the state of the interactive world and seeing as many free movies as you like as you rub shoulders with cool celebs like Jeffrey Tambor (”Arrested Development”), Doug Benson (”Super High Me”), and Morgan Spurlock (”30 Days,” “Super Size Me”). The extent of my interaction with each? I’ll let you guess who was who.

1. “Hey, I really enjoyed your acting workshop. That was great.”
2. (pointing) “Heyyyyyy, Doug Benson!”
3. “Hey.”

My South by Southwest escapade may be over, but if the film portion of the festival is any indication, 2008 might shape up to be a pretty great year in film. Of course, for anyone who lives in Austin, every year is a good year because these lucky cinemaniacs live in the home of the world-renowned Alamo Drafthouse chain of theaters. People outside of Austin are finally starting to see what a cool deal they have as the forward-thinking Drafthouses have been popping up in San Antonio, Houston, and Katy, TX.

The geniuses at the Alamo have concocted the perfect mix of arthouse fare, mainstream flicks, and cult movies to spotlight while their variously pierced, T-shirt clad waiters and waitresses bring you a full menu of drinks and dinner. The kicker? You can eat on the bar ledge right in front of you and you never have to get up for another beer (provided you order a bucket of Lone Star, which I recommend highly).

After getting the pleasantries of hotel/badge check-in and bar-hopping out of the way, my friend Craig and I headed straight to the South Lamar Drafthouse showing “Back to the Future” at midnight. I ran into my old pal George, who filled me in that the Master Pancake Theatre (formerly Mr. Sinus Theater) boys would be poking fun Mystery Science Theater-style of one of the 1980s defining works of art. Years ago, when touring with Ultimate Fakebook, I had seen Mr. Sinus tear down the holy scrolls of “Footloose” and “The Lost Boys” and I will never be able to look at those movies the same again.

Friday night was no different. The timing these guys have is impeccable—they just sit there in the front row, drinking beer and heckling. It’s a beautiful thing; especially the late show when the kid gloves are off, content-wise. I’ve often wondered if it would be possible for them to take their act on the road. Maybe if the Alamo chain ever spreads up to Kansas, we might get lucky some day.

For the next four days, I crammed as many movies I had and hadn’t heard of into as much time as I could, and I didn’t see a single bad film. Ironically, my first official film of the festival was my favorite—a tiny-budgeted indie documentary called “Second Skin.”

I knew very little about the world of MMORPG (Massively Multiplayer Online Role Playing Gaming), except that I was scared. Would it be a movie about nerdy little freaks that hole up in their rooms for days on end with nothing but pizza, Doritos, and the blue light of a computer screen to keep them alive? The surprising answer is no. Brothers Juan Carlos Piñeiro Escoriaza (director) and Victor Piñeiro Escoriaza (writer/co-producer) covered the wide spectrum of this addictive and increasingly common form of entertainment by expertly juggling multiple storylines (each with a surprisingly involving story arc). One couple falls in love after their attractively endowed avatars do a bizarre flirty dance together, one gamer loses everything and heads to role-playing rehab (who knew there was such a place?), and a group of gaming buddies who call their living room the Fortress of Dorkitude begin to disintegrate as some members gradually grow up and have children.

As if it weren’t enough to follow the film’s three fascinating main timelines, the Escoriaza brothers briefly explore other fringes of the online gaming world such as “gold farmers” who sell virtual swords and virtual armor to online players for real cash. Their attention to storytelling really shows through in their organization, because when one person’s big reveal comes late into the film, it completely changes the story’s context. “Second Skin” was made with a lot of care towards building character and has the same affection for those characters as “The King of Kong” last year. This movie deserves to be picked up, and fast. Marketed with the right savvy, it could have a huge potential audience. After all, the videogame industry makes way more then the movie industry.

Coming Next: Draco & the Malfoys and the good Dr. Gonzo.

Tags: 2008, alamo drafthouse, austin, film festival, interactive, jeffrey tambor, master pancake, movie, music, second skin, south by southwest, SXSW