Jesse Peretz’s Our Idiot Brother is a feel-good movie for people who resist feel-good movies, a flawed vessel that nonetheless stays afloat by clinging to its buoyant star, Paul Rudd. Its problems are numerous and apparent: The picture meanders listlessly, and in the end it’s really more of a character sketch than a comedy — the movie’s writers, David Schisgall and Evgenia Peretz (the director’s sister), haven’t really bothered much with a plot. Yet I came out of Our Idiot Brother feeling better than I did when I went in. It’s the kind of movie whose value lies between the lines, not directly on them, and if the pleasures it offers are slender ones, at least there’s something good-hearted about them.
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REVIEW: Paul Rudd Saves Our Idiot Brother from Total Idiocy
