Maybe template is a better choice of words. We’re not deciding where these two films fall on a chart of (wo)man vs. technology, nature, et al., and the unfortunate connotation of “template” is that of a by-the-numbers assembly line product. But really, are templates in place and if so what are we talking about? Boy-has-girl-but-may-lose-her? Thief-as-Robin Hood?.

In Monogamy, Theo (Chris Messina) is a wedding photographer with a clandestine sideline gig taking photos of people who pay to see how they look in the every day. Living in Brooklyn with his fiancee Nat (Rashida Jones), their wedding day, with mundane color scheme decisions yet to be made, is almost upon them, along with an open mic night to debut a song Nat has written. There’s friction in the relationship. Chris senses Nat’s affection towards him has shifted and a sudden hospital stay for her doesn’t help the growing divide between them. Married and divorced friends are telling him of the changes coming his way, how a couple’s combined lives are never what they think it will be. Chris questions what intimacy even means. Then “Gumshoot” gets a request from a woman to photograph her in the park and Theo slips into an obsession that he hopes will give him some answers.

Based on a real life kingpin of the Irish mob in 1970’s Cleveland, Kill the Irishman, in scattershot fashion, chronicles the rise of Danny Greene (Ray Stevenson), dock worker turned union boss turned head of rackets and garbage collection. A thug with a loyal heart, and a sense honor as large as all Ulster. Not one for going to the mattresses during gang wars, he lives in the open, thwarts the heavy hitters out of New York and seems unkillable. Ay, but it’s lonely at the top.

So there’s nothing new under the sun or anything wrong with a hook to hang your moviegoing hat on. Fresh takes still happen in film (Blue Valentine, Winter’s Bone, The Town), but in this case and as far as “templates” are concerned, it’s what’s bred in the bone will out in the flesh and both films miss their marks.

Monogamy tries to break its New York hipster romance/drama mold. Theo’s voyeuristic journey isn’t one of shallow sexual adventure for himself and thus avoids what could have been the worst possible Brian De Palma pastiche, and as he ferrets out the secrets of the woman he photographs, he’s probing into what his lack of intimacy with, and committing to Nat, will mean in the long run. Then seemingly obligatory, arty and dropped-in scenes of Messina as angsty, indie-boy drag the movie down. Anybody, anywhere can be selfish and honestly have lost their life’s moorings so you forgive Theo’s self-centered take on what he’s going through, but Rashida Jones’ easy going sincerity as Nat, even in the most bitter and melancholic scenes, coupled with other fine moments, just add insult to injury.

In Kill the Irishman director Jonathan Hensleigh succeeds in a comfortable 70’s crimeland feel but that’s all. Ray Stevenson has an everyman charisma playing Danny Greene, but soon all the clichés lock into place. Loyal subordinates who won’t rat him out, the goombas taking more than what’s fair, the fatalistic hiding in the open of a Kilkenny cat of a man who believes in hundreds of years of righteous Celtic warrior heritage. Hensligh may have wanted to craft the almost-morality-plays of Dog Day Afternoon or The French Connection, but he ended up with The Boondock Saints.

Can you enjoy these two films? Sure. They’re fine for a Friday evening with a Belgium wheat beer and an arugula and pistachio salad with basil vinaigrette or maybe corned beef and cabbage and a shot.

You match the dinner template with the film. – [DVD]

Rudd plays a newly engaged California realtor who gets along famously with the friends of his fiancee (Rashida Jones), and women in general, but has no male friends to speak of and so no prospective best man. That is, until he hits it off with Segel. They bond over fish tacos and rock out to Rush.

To me the film didn’t seem as vulgar as Marshall, especially in how it foregoes any full-frontal nudity by Segel, and so I didn’t mind all the swearing or constant discussions about certain adult activities as much. And it all has a nice, loose-but not too loose-improvisational feel thanks to director and co-writer John Hamburg (Safe Men), who nonetheless could have cut the scene where Rudd educates Jones on said prog-rock band.

Plus it’s reliably funny, from the man-dates Rudd goes on to find a male buddy to Segel’s play-by-play of a guy who won’t fart near his girlfriend, to Rudd’s failed attempts to say “see ya later” in a cool way, to the way Rudd and Segel’s inevitable break-up involves a discussion of Chocolat. There’s also the hilarious fight Segel picks with Ferrigno that ends with Segel in a sleeper hold.

Rudd just seems to get funnier with each film, and here he elicits laughs not only from his expressions, like when a gay man-date (Thomas Lennon) lays a French kiss on him, but also from his tendency to sound Irish when trying imitate Jamaicans or Brits. Not to mention how he slaps his slick jerk of a co-worker (Rob Huebel) in telling the guy to get lost.

Segel’s easy-going man-boy slob made me laugh, too, from little things like telling Rudd not to make Ferrigno (whose house Rudd is trying to sell) mad, to bigger ones, like his string of curses after getting a golf ball to the shin. His role is also the more interesting one, in that he’s essentially a male etiquette mentor for Rudd.

Then there’s the talented supporting cast, most of which has little to do. J.K. Simmons makes a funny impression as Rudd’s dad, whose best friends are Rudd’s gay brother (Andy Samberg) and a guy named “Hank Markdukas.” Jones is fine as the typically sweet and intelligent girlfriend who has typically supportive gal pals (Jaime Pressly and Sarah Burns). Lennon (17 Again) makes the hysterical most of his all-too-brief screen time.

I can certainly see how people might tire of Rudd’s ultimate-nice-guy act, or find Segel boorish and annoying, or even be put off by the seemingly incessant profanity (though Rudd hardly swears at all). I myself could have done without Jon Favreau as Pressly’s overly-aggressive, cigar-chomping husband who constantly belittles Rudd.

But I still liked the movie, and what’s more, I could relate all too easily to the social awkwardness Rudd experiences when trying to bond with other men, be it playing cards with Favreau’s friends or not being invited on a bachelor party/camping trip by some fellow fencing fellows. That alone raisesI Love You, Man a few notches above your average cuss-filled comedy. – [DVD]

Comedy/Romance

Rated R

DVD Release Date: 8/11/09