"It's beyond gay," claims Ben (Mark Duplass) of Humpday's central premise -- that Ben and his friend Andrew (Joshua Leonard) will make a sex tape with each other to settle a dare, despite both men being straight -- and in a way, it truly is. Too often, "gay films" like Brokeback Mountain are simultaneously embiggened and diminished by pundits eager to proclaim how the gay content is merely a metaphor, an exotic lens for straight people to project their own familiar issues through. That concept actually works for Humpday, though: These are straight people afraid they're growing too domesticated, and through the looming, outré bet, they can confront their own cultural timidity (and, by extension, their tendencies for self-congratulation) head-on.
Also, it's funny.
Humpday, finally, isn't as interested as Brüno is in plumbing the culture clash between gays and straights (nor does it milk gay jokes in the putative service of exposing homophobia). Instead, it's a comedic case study about settling down. Ben and his wife Anna (Alycia Delmore) get along great, and it amuses both of them to no end that they're now the sort of married couple where the wife cooks dinner and they have to actually schedule sex. Still, viewing domesticity through an ironic pair of quotation marks can't absolve it of its routine elements, and it isn't until old friend Andrew comes along to bust that routine up that Ben realizes he's been wanting more.
But does he? One of the chief pleasures of Humpday is how it's willing to upend our expectations. At first, Andrew seems like the wild, spontaneous one, but when he's offered a sexy threesome with two willing ladies, he's the one who gets cold feet. Meanwhile, straitlaced Ben latches onto the idea of the sex tape with increasing fervor, seeing it as just the thing he needs to break out of the domestic lull that's crept up on him. Needless to say, Anna isn't keen on the idea, but her reaction (and her attempt to wrap her head around it) surprises, too. The concept is as high as any summer comedy's, but the continuously improvising stars attempt to play against it at every opportunity.
As the tape date approaches for Ben and Andrew, the questions surrounding their sex scene aren't anatomical -- they're philosophical. That they'll still be best bros is a given, and rather than asserting their masculinity at every turn, they're more concerned with proving that the onset of their thirties hasn't dulled their horizons. That director Lynn Shelton can steer her film down all these thematic roads and yet still include some giddy laughs is a mumblecore marvel indeed.
Here's a bet: There won't be a better, smarter, more succinct comedy all year. Any takers?