‘The Bubble’ Review: Another Overlong, Unfunny Judd Apatow Comedy

Judd Apatow’s Hollywood satire The Bubble offers exactly two laughs over 126 never-ending minutes.

The appeal of Judd Apatow baffles me. I’ve seen most of his movies. That’s my job. But I have yet to see one I’d watch again. Even those titles I might have reviewed favorably (I seem to recall one or two)— the idea of giving them a second look feels like homework. Apatow’s movies are always too long, too self-involved, and too indulgent of the actors and their ad-libs. Other than “sarcastic” and “cold,” there’s nothing I remember about a single one of them.

To be fair, Apatow’s 2018 Garry Shandling documentary is absolutely superb, which he deserves full credit for, but other than that…

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Anyway, Apatow’s latest overlong, unfunny indulgence is a five-alarm dumpster fire called The Bubble, which landed on Netflix this weekend. The satire is aimed squarely at modern-day Hollywood — the industry’s excesses, egos, left-wing pieties, self-importance, reliance on special effects, and lack of originality. In other words, it’s something we’ve seen a hundred times before, but the exciting new concept here is… What if the cast and crew of a big-budget franchise film are forced into the pressure cooker of a coronavirus bubble?

The fictional movie is called Cliff Beasts 6, and the characters are all single-dimension clichés…

David Duchovny is Dustin Mulray, the sexaholic lead who believes the franchise needs to say something important about the environment.

Leslie Mann is Lauren Van Chance, the aging, insecure actress who lucked into a franchise role.

Karen Gillan is Carol Cobb, who’s come crawling back to the franchise after attempting serious roles bottomed out her career.

Pedro Pascal is Dieter Bravo, a method actor addicted to sex and drugs.

On top of that, you have a pile of indulgent cameos, which feels like Apatow showing off his bigshot pals… The always unfunny Kate McKinnon, as well as John Lithgow, Daisy Ridley,  John Cena, Beck, and, naturally, Benedict Cumberbatch.

There’s no charm, no warmth, no chemistry between the actors…. Instead, it’s sarcasm and ironic distance, and God, I miss John Candy.

Even if you’re making a satire, there has to be something driving the plot, something the audience can get behind… We have to want our characters to survive the experience or discover something about themselves or meet a goal, like falling in love or finishing the movie. The Bubble has none of that. It doesn’t even try. There’s no focus or even an animating theme. We jump from character to character as they attempt to be funny, and other than a couple of chuckles over 126 interminable minutes, they never are. No one feels real. The scenes go on forever…. After a while, you can practically hear Apatow and his pals laughing at their $75 million home movie while those of us who weren’t invited to the party keep checking our watches.

And this is one of those movies that gets worse as it goes along until you lose patience and start fast-forwarding. The last 30 minutes fly by like 90 minutes.

What’s more, over and over, the satire misses the mark. For example, Apatow treats Cliff Beast 6 as though its place in our collective popular culture is something closer to Police Academy 6 as opposed to Jurassic World. We’re told the studio will collapse without this tentpole, but the size of the overall production, including the small staff,  looks like an indie film. Actors complain about their awful working conditions, like being forced to shoot while everyone’s sick with the flu, but it’s never clear if we’re supposed to side with them or laugh at their snowflake crybabying.

If you’re looking for the opportunity to point and laugh at Hollywood, let me recommend Sullivan’s Travels (1941), Singin’ in the Rain (1952), Living in Oblivion (1995), Bowfinger (1999), Galaxy Quest (1999), The Three Amigos (1986), The Stunt Man (1980),  My Favorite Year (1982), Ed Wood (1994), The Party (1968), Tropic Thunder (2008), S.O.B. (1981) … Even Woody Allen’s flawed Hollywood Ending (2002) shines by comparison.

Honestly, we don’t have to sit and stream every piece of lazy, meaningless, modern-day garbage fed to us like we’re cocaine monkeys waiting for the next hit. There’s a history of artistry waiting to be rediscovered, a bottomless pile of beauty there for the asking that can see us through this insufferable era of shit.

Follow John Nolte on Twitter @NolteNC. Follow his Facebook Page here.