Zach Galifianakis gets some good laughs from the celebrity interviews, and Lauren Lapkus makes welcome company. The thin road-trip story is harder work: this is a decent comedy for those already fond of its host’s bad manners.
The pleasure of Between Two Ferns: The Movie is watching a celebrity receive a question no polite interviewer would ask. There are enough good insults here for a decent comedy, particularly for existing admirers, but the road trip is persistently thin. Director Scott Aukerman and fellow writer Zach Galifianakis never quite find enough for their host to do between guests. At 82 minutes, it still gives us too much time to think about the distance to the next interview.
Zach Galifianakis understands how much of the joke belongs to the person receiving the insult. His awkwardness makes even a simple exchange feel like work, and he is good at suggesting that any offence is the guest’s problem. We laughed hardest at the back-and-forth with David Letterman, whose replies give the host some resistance. That exchange lets both comic personalities contribute without a plot pushing them along.
Lauren Lapkus gives the travelling company much of its appeal. As Carol, she is an engaging presence even when the writing supplies little to make the crew worth following between interviews. Ryan Gaul’s Cam and Jiavani’s Boom Boom have less to work with; the group never acquires enough comic friction to sustain a separate story. We keep waiting for the companions to become as interesting together as the host is when someone sits opposite him.
Benjamin Kasulke’s cinematography is most effective when it simply allows us to examine the people enduring these conversations. Susie Mancini’s production design feels appropriately modest, keeping the attention on faces rather than surroundings. There is no need for the film to look grander because it has become longer. The trouble is that the travel passages offer little visual pleasure to compensate for the weaker material.
Hank Friedmann and Brendan Walsh cut the interviews briskly, sometimes too briskly for embarrassment to develop into anything more uncomfortable than a quick joke. The insults land, but the pauses need room as well, especially when a guest is capable of answering back. Alex Wurman’s music is unobtrusive, and its restraint is welcome when the verbal sparring supplies so much of the pleasure. It cannot do much for the stretches in which the script is merely moving its people onwards.
Scott Aukerman and Zach Galifianakis seem less certain about what anyone should do away from an interview. The road-trip structure provides opportunities for fresh encounters, but too many connective scenes establish a story we have little reason to care about. Some of the absurdity works because it is so casually offered; elsewhere, the effort to manufacture another comic incident shows. A talk-show parody needs a host and somebody willing to endure him, and these encounters already contain plenty to explore.
The guests’ willingness to look foolish keeps the film from feeling spiteful. Anyone expecting an assault on celebrity culture may find the company too agreeable, since the famous faces are willing participants in the joke. That friendliness will matter more than the story to viewers who already like the host. Save it for an evening when nobody needs much of a plot.