Originally published 8/24/2005
The 40-Year-Old Virgin
Director: Judd Apatow
Writers: Steve Carell and Judd Apatow
Producers: Judd Apatow, Shauna Robertson, Clayton Townsend
Stars: Steve Carell, Catherine Keener, Paul Rudd, Romany Malco, Seth Rogen, Elizbaeth Banks, Leslie Mann, Jane Lynch
Steve Carell’s face is like a church service you desperately want to laugh in. This is the most square, sober, white, middlebrow, milquetoast kisser you ever saw. It passes beyond dour and into new dimensions of grave earnest. He should be selling insurance to Mormons. Which is maybe why he doesn’t even have to move to be funny.
That performance-enhanced deadpan has made him a reliable second banana for years, stealing bits out from under Will Ferrell in Anchorman, Jim Carrey in Bruce Almighty, even Jon Stewart on The Daily Show. In that loose-knit troupe of modern comedy stars and filmmakers that’s been dubbed “The Frat Pack” he’s like a member of the “B” squad. The 40-Year-Old Virgin is a chance for he and other supporting “Frat Pack”-ers like Paul Rudd to take their own spotlight, and historically this doesn’t always go well. But he earns his leading man bona fides and delivers us a raunchy and surprisingly sweet-natured sex comedy in the bargain.
His first success is in creating a memorable character for himself. Andy Stitzer (Carell) has indeed passed the big 4-0 without ever knowing a woman in the Biblical sense. It’s not that he’s hideous-looking or has lacked the opportunity, but mishaps and anxieties compounded in such a way over the years as to make him prefer to stop trying.
His whole life is constructed to express a very little bit of himself in a small, protected corner where no one can see – he collects action figures, plays video games, rides his bike to and from work and stays home every night with gadgets and toys that seem lacking in purpose without anyone else around. “Is that the Six-Million-Dollar Man’s boss?” he’s asked in incredulous amazement when someone finally sees his pristine toy shelves.
He has the knowledge and experience to be a great salesman at the electronics store he works at, but stays in the stock room rather than risk interaction. He likes women, he really does; in a confessional moment he blurts out that he respects them so much he never speaks to them. This is a tricky persona to portray and get us to care about, and the movie acknowledges that a dedicated loner like Andy, were he not so gentle deep down, could be one of those walking time bombs. Certainly the only reason his co-workers invite him to their poker game is because they’ve got an empty chair.
But at that game, as he tries to take part in a conversation about the nasty, his ignorance is revealed and his secret comes out. Their reaction is key – there is a little mockery, but the overall effect is one of endearing Andy to them. They each have their own problems – David (Rudd) is still passive-aggressively mooning over his ex-girlfriend, Jay (Romany Malco) can’t stop cheating on his girl, and Cal (Seth Rogen) sees no value in emotional attachment at all. But because they each remember the nervousness and awkwardness of that time before they enjoyed communion with the fairer sex, they sympathize. They’re all emotionally-arrested dorks, so they can’t help but look at Andy and think “there, but for the grace of God…”.
So they make it their mission to arrange his deflowering; but the message of the movie is that this ultimately means much more than simple intercourse to him. It means growing up and doing something with his life and risking an emotional connection with someone that’s not based on magic tricks or watching Survivor together. So while his pals encourage him to start his training with a series of easy lays – they call it being a “Ho-Runner” – he is drawn to a single mother (Catherine Keener) who works at a store across the street selling peoples’ inessentials on eBay.
Their courtship is charming – she can sense there is something delicate about him that needs coaxing out, and she has been wounded so deeply by relationships that leap into the sack that his hesitance only makes him seem more chivalrous. The parallels between what they can do for each other emotionally and how her job can capitalize on his action figures is obvious but winning nonetheless.
There are vulgarities and gross-out scenes galore – Andy provides a potent demonstration of the complex hazards of “morning wood”, and other bodily processes are drafted into service. Not to mention the gay jokes, racial jokes, and references to the David Caruso movie Jade. It’s noteworthy how benign they can come off, though, due to the orientation of the comedy. Potentially offensive as its material is this is a movie that, deep down, likes its characters, and will not mock or humiliate them just for sport. That difference between this and other movies in which characters are vomited on is subtle but crucial.
Carell developed Andy’s character during his days with Chicago’s Second City comedy troupe and you can sense the time and effort he has put into interacting with the world the way Andy would. He is the living embodiment of a square peg, many of his laughs come not from exactly what he says, but in the carefully-calibrated way in which what he says and the thought process it indicates exist just a couple of inches to the left of what a more socially-adapted person would say. And given his naturally inert expression and posture it is a joy watching him blossom – in a drunk scene there’s something hysterical about the way he peels himself out of a bar booth, and by the end credits he’s – well, I won’t spoil that for you.
Often in a straight-ahead comedy the reviewer’s task is to expand into hundreds of words either “I laughed” or “I didn’t laugh” and attempt the impossible task of explaining why. Comedy does not let itself be wrangled so easily. I can’t say every joke in “The 40-Year-Old Virgin” is a winner, but I didn’t go for any long stretch without laughing. What I can say is that it stands in the proud tradition of naughty movies made without cynicism or condemnation. It celebrates its prurience but disarms by honestly addressing the related emotions and empowering the people you root for. It’s about sex, but it’s not just about the sex.