Craig soon comes under Austin’s spell — the pair smoking, going on an adventure to an aqueduct at night, looking at his collection of early human tools, foraging for mushrooms, some light boxing and singing along with his friends to an an impromptu a cappella version of “My Boo” by Ghost Town DJ’s.
Craig falls hard, fantasizing about joining his neighbor’s band and back slapping with his new band of brothers. “You make me feel so free,” he confesses to his cool neighbor. But he doesn’t have the skills to play it cool. As the kids today say, he has no rizz.
DeYoung is at his best here, exploring the slippery notions of masculinity, both tender and muscular, and the difficulty of joining a circle of guys with their own idiosyncratic and iron laws. Friendship shows Craig aping his man-crush and failing terribly — and bringing down the object of his bromance at the same time. It’s as if Larry David remade Single White Female.
Most impressive is that DeYoung has not created a collection of connected SNL skits. Each part cleverly feeds to another, with echoes throughout the script. If a muscle car is mentioned at the top, you’ll know you’ll find a muscle car by the end. Same with a lick or sliding doors.