Going the Distance is a lacklustre romantic comedy, but it's a lacklustre romantic comedy that seems to have been made -- weirdly -- for men. While the gooey, soft centre of the thing is the love story you'd expect, much of the humour runs to filthy language, toilet jokes, drunken bar behaviour and stupid sex scenes.
That almost makes the movie sound like fun, doesn't it?
It isn't, though.
Drew Barrymore stars in Going the Distance as Erin, a newspaper intern living in New York for a six-week period. One night in a bar, she meets Garrett (Justin Long), who works for a record label. They are attracted to each other; they'd have to be, to overlook the fact that they both work at jobs that no longer exist. A one-night stand turns into romance, but alas, after those six weeks Erin must return home to San Francisco. Now the lovers are on opposite coasts.
What do to?
They text, they write, they make an attempt at phone sex. They are just so far away from each other! They miss each other madly. Garrett decides to surprise Erin, so he shows his naked bottom in a tanning booth and then flies to California. He and Erin start to have sex on the dining room table, so he makes a poor impression on Erin sister's (Christina Applegate) when she walks into the room. Erin's sister disinfects the dining room table, talks about dry humping and says the f-word a lot. This is the point at which the viewer can no longer avoid the ugly truth: There's no script, and nothing is going to happen. And it's going to not happen for at least another hour. Of your life. That you're never getting back.
Going the Distance has two very charismatic leads in Barrymore and Long, but there's nothing here for them to do. The movie has a bit of glued-on conflict about Barrymore getting a job at a San Francisco newspaper, causing Long to become angry that she's not moving to New York to live with him. Whoever thought up that work-related plot twist maybe didn't notice the U.S. recession or that's it's no longer 1957.
Barrymore has a funny bit acting drunk and picking a fight in a bar, but otherwise the movie is just one sight gag after another, and any grown-up potential in the first act is never realized. Cue the cake fights, the funny face drawn on the drunk, the barbecue sauce everywhere.
Making everything worse are Charlie Day and Jason Sudeikis in the roles of Justin Long's moronic sidekicks. Their work involves talking about how a mustache can be a time machine, eavesdropping on sexual activity and conducting conversations while on the toilet. The worse part is knowing that this must look like edgy, risky humour to the filmmakers and their posse.
