Self Reliance Review: Jake Johnson’s Directorial Debut Is Washed

Jake Johnson’s Directorial Debut Self Reliance Is Weird and Washed

I don’t yet have a word for the phenomenon chiefly found in more recent films, not bound to any one genre, but primarily comedy: Scenes in which groups of people, at least two, awkwardly stumble through a filler conversation searching for a joke that isn’t there. This used to be called “improv,” but funny actors tended to eventually improvise their way into a funny bit. No more! Now, this type of scene sees actors drone on in anticlimactic circles, as if they themselves are trying to be convinced of what’s supposed to be funny. This scene is everywhere, in any kind of film, maybe most egregiously in superhero films where it’s difficult to know if the dialogue was on the page or if Kevin Feige specified that everyone wing it. It’s hard to put into words, but everyone knows what I’m talking about, right? And it’s not just the searching for a joke—there’s an attempt to recreate a specific kind of realistic cadence, saturated with “uhs” and “ums,” pregnant pauses, discomfort, and moments of miscommunication. Naturalism can be cinematic, but there is choreography and intention to, say, the overlapping cacophony of the Safdie brothers’ dialogue. When deployed haphazardly, this style dulls both humor and art.

Which brings me to Self Reliance, beloved New Girl alum Jake Johnson’s feature directorial debut, which he also wrote and stars in. It’s a high-concept thriller-comedy, and 80% of its character interactions are this aforementioned scourge to modern comedies. It’s like if you took the putrid vibes of the much-derided “Well, that just happened” cop-out punchline and stretched them out into a few minutes of full-on conversation. That’s most of the dialogue in Self Reliance, in which Johnson’s character Tommy is chosen to take part in a dark web Running Man, where he is hunted in his day-to-day life for one month, after which he will be awarded $1 million should he survive.

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Stuck in a permanent rut for two years following his breakup with a high school sweetheart, Tommy is picked up off the street by a limo escorting Andy Samberg (playing himself; also, he’s one of the film’s producers), who’s been hired to charter Tommy to a warehouse where he’s offered the choice to be on the show. Hard up, lonely and bored, Tommy readily agrees when he is informed of the game’s one, silly loophole: As long as he’s with another person, his hunters will not touch him.

Tommy first attempts to get members of his family to stay by his side, but they take his explanation of what’s happening to be some sort of mentally ill delusion (their conversations are what make up most of those circuitous, stumbling scenes). So, Tommy employs the help of a random homeless man off the street. James (I Think You Should Leave fan-favorite Biff Wiff) proves to be an affable cohort, whose companionship blossoms into a bromance. James and Tommy’s dynamic is hilarious and even sweet, and Wiff is an effortless comedic presence. The actors have incredible chemistry—it’s a wasted opportunity that the rest of Self Reliance isn’t centered on their relationship in a platonic rom-com.

The James-Tommy subplot is merely one, mostly discarded, thread in service of the Tommy-Maddy relationship. Tommy eventually posts an ad on Craigslist in search of others who have been chosen to be on the show, and it is Maddy (Anna Kendrick) who responds. With roughly the same amount of time remaining during their stints and similar reasons for coming aboard, the two agree to accompany one another for the next two weeks before their times are up and they receive their millions. Of course, this semi-forced company ultimately evolves into something which resembles a real romantic relationship, something the pair very clearly crave. Maddy even encourages Tommy to finally gain closure and confront his ex (Natalie Morales), whose doorstep we see Tommy arrive at and then turn away from without knocking at the start of Self Reliance. It’s a weird scene, however; an emotional turning point for Tommy that’s thrown into the middle with minimal lead-up and little catharsis, between two characters whose relationship means virtually nothing to us. We’re not given any reason to view their prior courtship as meaningful, other than that Tommy has told us that it was, but we also barely know Tommy.

That scene, and its bizarre placement within Self Reliance, is a good example of how the entire narrative plays out, in a film which hesitates through its plot like a picky eater at a buffet. It cannot be overemphasized just how weird the tone is. Self Reliance opens and flings us into Tommy getting plucked off the street for the game show with almost negative time spent understanding his life and who he is, and why we should care about his choice to play this life-threatening game. (It doesn’t do a great job acquainting us with him throughout the rest of the film, either). There are barely any stakes; the story is scattershot, non-committal and meandering. Even Judd Apatow’s frustratingly digressive plots have an otherwise clear path from beginning to middle to end. When the story of Self Reliance isn’t having a difficult time deciding which subplot to oblige, it’s torturing us through those pesky asides that don’t have nearly the humor of an Apatow joint, in which Tommy and his sisters (Mary Holland and Emily Hampshire), or Tommy and Maddy, or Tommy and his brother-in-law (Daryl J. Johnson), ramble at one another like headless chickens searching for feed.

And yet, there are (frustratingly sparse) moments of laugh-out-loud humor—enough to demonstrate that Johnson can absolutely do funny. Tommy being publicly accosted by an Ellen DeGeneres impersonator, hired by the game show, is hilarious, as are the scenes with the “ninjas,” the creepy, contortionist production crew of the show who follow Tommy everywhere. And, of course, the entire James-Tommy relationship is dynamite. That team-up is almost written as if Johnson knows that it’s the best part of the film (it doesn’t hurt that Wiff and Johnson look like they’re having a great time, like the two had already been pals for years) yet he nevertheless forces our concerns elsewhere. The premise is also genuinely neat, a fun, breezy little 90-minute high-concept that unfortunately sounds more propulsive and invigorating than it really is.

Johnson is not without talent. That’s obvious. As an actor, Johnson is incredibly charming and funny in a perpetually self-deprecating way, although it’s true that he doesn’t have the best cinematic track record (Jurassic World, The Mummy, Tag and Let’s Be Cops, to name a few). Sometimes an actor-turned-writer-director has a shaky start; it happens, and it sometimes happens to multiple sitcom actors in the same year. Perhaps a co-writer could guide his impulses, and a better cinematographer—one who doesn’t primarily work in television—could allow his film to look like more than a television show. And maybe, like producer and co-star Andy Samberg’s character from Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping, Johnson could have a guy in his entourage who kicks him in the balls when he greenlights atrocious scenes of stumbly improv. For the love of God, just write a real joke instead.

Director: Jake Johnson
Writer: Jake Johnson
Starring: Jake Johnson, Anna Kendrick, Natalie Morales, Andy Samberg, GaTa, Emily Hampshire, Mary Holland, Boban Marjanović, Christopher Lloyd, Wayne Brady
Release Date: January 12, 2024 (Hulu)

Brianna Zigler is an entertainment writer based in middle-of-nowhere Massachusetts. Her work has appeared at Little White Lies, Film School Rejects, Thrillist, Bright Wall/Dark Room and more, and she writes a bi-monthly newsletter called That’s Weird. You can follow her on Twitter, where she likes to engage in stimulating discussions on films like Movie 43, Clifford, and Watchmen.

Jake Johnson’s Directorial Debut Self Reliance Is Weird and Washed