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Gosh, I love Forgetting Sarah Marshall. It rivals Wedding Crashers as one of the funniest movies that I’ve ever seen. It’s one of those movies that never gets old, no matter how many times I see it. I was watching it the other night with my fiance as the culmination of our early Valentine’s Day extravaganza, and once it was over, she asked with genuine curiousity: “Why do you like it so much?”

So what the heck do I like so much about Forgetting Sarah Marshall? In the spirit of Valentine’s Day, let’s find out. I could go on and on about what I like about it, but I’ve pinpointed a few of the big elements that I consider to be the most important. Read on and check it out!

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It’s a break-up movie from the male perspective. Before writer/producer/director Judd Apatow burst onto the scene with The 40-Year-Old Virgin — ushering in a new era of bro-centric comedies with Seth Rogen positioned as the new face of the slobbish everyman — the target audience for romantic comedies tended to skew female. Now, don’t mistake this as a criticism of romantic comedies geared more towards women. Universal appeal is overrated, and there is nothing wrong with hedging your bets on the people likely to be most interested in your product. Forgetting Sarah Marshall was a breath of fresh air — for me, at least — because it engaged both sexes.

Peter Bretter is not the tough and rugged male protagonist we’ve come to expect from past romantic comedies. In fact, he is quite the opposite. In the immediate aftermath of the break-up, he spends much of his time in his apartment weeping and wallowing in sorrow. His ill-advised attempts at asserting his masculinity — going clubbing with his reluctant but supportive stepbrother in search of a one night stand — all go up in flames and fail to fill the gaping hole in his heart. Part of the reason that Forgetting Sarah Marshall succeeds so well is because it flips the script and subverts the traditional pre-ordained roles that have become an all-too-familiar staple of romantic comedies.

[/vc_column_text][vc_single_image image=”167″ img_size=”full” alignment=”center”][vc_column_text]The “ex-girlfriend” is more than a cardboard caricature. This is never more apparent than in the conversation between Peter and Sarah towards the end of the film, in which Peter is forced to acknowledge the role he played in the death of their relationship. I’m not condoning the fact that Sarah had an affair (and never would), but I can at least understand the motivations behind it, as she was in a relationship that was becoming increasingly unfulfilling. I never hated Sarah, a rare feat in modern romantic comedies, where vilifying the ex as a terrible human being has become standard procedure. In a lesser film, Sarah might’ve been painted as a controlling shrew who relishes in making others miserable. Here, she is vulnerable and insecure and appears to have genuine feelings for Peter. Her Achilles’ heel is that she never looks in the mirror when assigning blame — whereas Peter spends most of the back half of the film accepting his flaws and coming into his own.[/vc_column_text][vc_single_image image=”166″ img_size=”full” alignment=”center”][vc_column_text]The film is an actualized version of what we all go through after a break-up — no matter where we go, we can’t stop thinking about the person that left us. In this case, Peter is so desperate to rid himself of painful memories that he seeks refuge in Hawaii, only to come face to face with them again in the form of her actual physical presence. Not to mention the fact that she has also brought her new boyfriend with her. And we are then able to see, from both sides, how each compares their current relationship to their last one. After Rachel Jansen from the front desk has a warm response to hearing one of the songs from his rock opera, Peter has a flashback to Sarah’s less than enthused reaction. When her new beau Aldous Snow refuses to wear the new shirt she bought for him, Sarah has flashbacks to several occasions where Peter made a point to appreciate her gifts, regardless of whether he liked them or not. Small but truthful touches like this are what set Forgetting Sarah Marshall apart.

To me, Forgetting Sarah Marshall is less about romance and more about how much people can learn about themselves when going from one relationship to the next.[/vc_column_text][vc_single_image image=”165″ img_size=”full” alignment=”center”][vc_column_text]The near complete lack of lowest-common-denominator humor. There isn’t a single fart or poop joke in Forgetting Sarah Marshall. Go back and check the tape, and you’ll see that I’m right. Toilet humor — or at least, what I would consider to be toilet humor — is largely absent. And through some strange miracle, the film still manages to be laugh-out-loud hilarious, and the humor holds up even after repeat viewings. Make no mistake, people, this is a modern miracle. Instead of relying on low-hanging fruit, Forgetting Sarah Marshall is all about having fun with interesting characters in situations that are ripe for comedy. The awkwardness alone of being on a hotel resort with your ex is what serves as the source of most of the humor. And let’s not forget the fact that Peter is writing a musical version of Dracula — with puppets. Now that is being creative.

Anything I missed? Let me know![/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]