Vince Vaughn

Vince Vaughn keeps talking in Swingers (1996) as though Jon Favreau’s uncertainty can be cleared up by another confident assertion. As Trent Walker, he makes enthusiasm sound almost compulsory, and leaves Mike Peters to struggle with the practical business of joining in. Doug Liman’s comedy gives that certainty an awkward companion worth watching just as closely. We laughed at the difference between them, then felt protective of Mike because Favreau lets us see the effort of keeping up. Vaughn’s timing works because the friendship remains believable even when Trent is being a nuisance.

His height and loose-limbed bearing add to the effect: this is a man who takes up plenty of space before he speaks. Yet Swingers never lets us forget Favreau’s discomfort. The humour depends on watching what Vaughn’s confidence does to the person beside him. The showing off sometimes becomes wearing, particularly when the men seem determined to demonstrate how cool they are. We like the film’s willingness to let them be foolish without treating their friendship as a waste of time.

The breakthrough in Swingers led to The Lost World: Jurassic Park (1997), before ensemble comedies became the more familiar setting for his talkative, cocksure characters. DodgeBall: A True Underdog Story (2004) and Wedding Crashers (2005) belong to that stretch; The Break-Up (2006), which he also produced, mixed comedy with drama. The limitation is repetition, a fair complaint about The Internship (2013). We need more than another occasion for the same man to talk his way through trouble.

The darker turn brought True Detective (2015) and Brawl in Cell Block 99 (2017), with differing results. Vaughn’s imposing frame offers another way to hold our attention, particularly in the physically demanding Brawl in Cell Block 99. In True Detective, that presence does not always supply the depth or menace the part needs. For a first encounter, choose Swingers and pay as much attention to the friend trying to keep up.