“Knocked Up” more funny than poignant

“Knocked Up” almost defies conventional criticism in how utterly straightforward it is. A quick glance at its teaser poster should tell you just about everything you need to know about its minimal setup: layabout schlub Ben Stone (Seth Rogen) sitting next to E! Network up-and-comer Alison Scott (Katherine Heigl), both sporting awkward stares into nowhere as they wait in a gynecologist’s office.

It’s the result of an alcohol-fueled one-night stand, of course; Alison has decided to keep the baby, and now these two strangers are forced to figure things out together. It all amounts to a logical follow-up to director Judd Apatow’s last film—with this film’s sense of parental anxiety being an almost direct ideological continuation to the sexual escapades of “The 40-Year-Old Virgin”—and although it gives us even less to think about in terms of the serious issues it discusses, it nearly doubles “Virgin”’s already sharp sense of quick-draw profanity, resulting in something only sporadically touching but almost constantly hilarious.

As with many such comedies—or romantic comedies, as the case may be—it’s tempting to simply turn this review into a transcript of “Knocked Up”’s best jokes to let the reader put a toe in the water and determine if this is really the right film for them. The problem is, however, that the film’s biggest laughs seem puerile when described out of context but are sublimely hilarious when viewed with the final product: absurd stoner humor; a few bodily fluid jokes that actually mean something; an egotistical rant from a self-deprecating Ryan Seacrest; and a seemingly never-ending stream of hilarious insults from Ben’s fellow slackers (Jonah Hill, Jay Baruchel) aimed at their friend (Martin Starr), who has been challenged to leave his long, unkempt beard unshaven for an entire year. (All right, I give up; here’s one for you: “Was it difficult when you changed your name from Cat Stevens to Yusuf Islam?” See? You kind of have to be there.)

That group of characters, by the way, aren’t really forcibly representative of any lifestyle that Ben should or shouldn’t be living, as Andy’s wayward friends were in “40-Year-Old Virgin”; maybe as holdovers of the lifestyle that will have to abandoned in the face of fatherhood, but there’s nothing terribly in-your-face about it. However, one can feel a certain sigh of relief on the film’s part, as if there’s less pressure to turn its every movement into something allegorical and simply allow them to be three-dimensional. That goes for a lot of its characters, even Alison’s sister (Leslie Mann) and brother-in-law (Paul Rudd)—certainly it can be seen as the possible consequences of a dishonest relationship or a loveless marriage, but they’re fleshed out, with their own problems to explore outside of their relationship to Ben and Alison’s woes.

That’s what really makes “Knocked Up” such a pleasant experience: it’s completely self-contained and self-sufficient, unconcerned with the past successes and failures of its progenitors—its confidence gives us reason to offer it a little leeway when it stumbles. “Knocked Up” is undoubtedly at its weakest when it tries to create a romantic spark between its two leads. It never forces any schmaltz on the audience, but its “getting to know you” montages are perhaps a little too glossed over and easy-going (I blinked and a couple of strangers became bestest friends); meanwhile, serious arguments and fallings-out are engineered and timed in the script like a well-oiled machine. Sometimes it works, in the sense that no matter how close these people are, there will always be that sense of awkwardness in how they were forced into a relationship; more often, however, it feels confusing and off-putting. But the performances keep us in the film’s world: Rogen manages to convey a wide range of emotions while keeping that same dopey grin on his face, while Heigl simply bursts with a desire to see things right without compromising her principles.

I don’t mean to portray “Knocked Up” as unchallenging or undemanding—it takes an attentive ear to catch all of the quick-witted banter that it has to offer—but truth be told, it works better as a rapid-fire comedy given to the occasional sweet moment than as any sort of attempt to sort out the real-life follies of parenthood or pregnancy. And yet when the whole thing ends with a “baby book” montage of the cast and crew’s children, it sums up a certain sense of humanity that never quite fully blooms in the film, but always serves as its undercurrent.