Good Lord, is this what's waiting on the other side of 40? The idea of a bromance that's past its bro-ish expiration date isn't exactly the worst pitch for a movie ever, but something like I Melt With You is enough to put you off the idea of ever making friends, not to mention going to a movie about four guys who used to go to college together.
OK, maybe I'm being a bit harsh: the film, written by Glenn Porter and directed by Mark Pellington, certainly has a few merits here and there. For one, the storyline itself isn't exactly bad, and the early-game scenes of the four buddies (Jeremy Piven, Thomas Jane, Rob Lowe, and Christian McKay) ditzing around a treasure trove of drugs and booze during their annual, boys-only getaway (or something) is enough to make you think there might be something to it. But what starts out as a mildly interesting, occasionally impactful tale of boys who won't grow up soon takes a turn for, at best, the bizarre, and at worst, the unwatchable.
As the men's dark secrets (and a past promise they made to each other) come to light, the film shifts gears into what might possibly be the most abrasive storytelling of 2011. The whole thing goes by in a haze of sex-drugs-and-rock-n-roll that's as tough to register while you watch it as one might imagine it is to live it. Perhaps, in all fairness, that is the point, in which case kudos to Pellington for making the whole thing real. And the performances are admirably raw (lots of man-crying here), although watching these talented actors collapse into drug-induced histrionics soon becomes rote and hammy. Piven, it must be said, is the most convincing of the four, but it must also be said that he seems to be playing, once again, a variation on Ari Gold from Entourage.
The one thing the movie really does have going for it is its soundtrack, a kind of hidden-gem trove of '80s rock. The titular song is nowhere to be found, but Pellington does a good job of interspersing the tunes at the appropriate moments. It's when all those elements click that I Melt With You starts to take shape, but it never lasts. To quote from a later decade, call it a candle in the wind.
