What do you do if you've proposed to the love of your life, started planning an elegant wedding and then realized you're short a best man? That's the predicament that buddy-lacking Peter (Paul Rudd) faces in John Hamburg's delightful new comedy "I Love You, Man." Not only does the film embrace Judd Apatow's raunchy-good-fun trend, but it finally gives Rudd the chance to prove that he's a skilled comic actor and, lo and behold, he can carry a picture too.
Fans of "The 40 Year Old Virgin," "Superbad" and "Forgetting Sarah Marshall" (isn't everyone?) will find a lot to love in "I Love You, Man." Peter, a California-based real estate agent engaged to supportive, doe-eyed Zooey (Rashida Jones of "The Office"), is the gawky hero this time around, with a happy life but a drought of male camaraderie. "How do I meet friends? It's such a weird concept," he ponders.
After a series of dreadful man dates, he encounters Sydney (Jason Segel), an investor with a taste for divorcees and a puggle named Anwar Sadat -- they bear a striking resemblance -- at an open house. Before long, they are gorging on fish tacos, rocking out to Rush and enjoying all the perks of heterosexual male bonding, while Zooey starts to wonder if there's room for two in Peter's heart.
"I Love You, Man," written by Hamburg ("Along Came Polly") and Larry Levin ("Seinfeld"), offers an effective blend of salt and sugar. Unlike the over-the-top "You, Me and Dupree," the male friend doesn't resemble the Tasmanian Devil spinning around and knocking everything over in his wake, especially his pal's relationship. Sydney is a good guy, if a tad immature, and with the exception of a too-revealing engagement dinner toast, he seems to have Peter's back. There's not an unlikeable person in the film except for sleazy Tevin (Rob Huebel), who tries to bogart Peter's sale of "Hulk" Lou Ferrigno's house, and his screen time is minimal.
The supporting cast is ace, including Andy Samberg as a gay personal trainer, Sarah Burns as Kristin Wiig-like girl friend Hailey, and Jamie Pressly and Jon Favreau as an abrasive-yet-kinky married couple. But the film belongs to Rudd. It's impossible not to adore Peter when he leaves a horribly tongue-tied voicemail for Sydney (worse than any first date invite) or when he nicknames him "Jobin" (?!) in response to "Pistol Pete." Segel plays off him with ease as a seemingly grown-up version of Nick from "Freaks and Geeks," equipped with bong and snazzy drum set.
The ending of the film borders on trite, but the whole thing is so enjoyable that it's a minor glitch in a finely tuned system. When it comes to the March movie slump, "Love" really is all you need.
