Producers: Bradley Cooper, Weston Middleton, Kris Thykier and Will Arnett   Director: Bradley Cooper   Screenplay: Bradley Cooper, Will Arnett and Mark Chappell   Cast: Will Arnett, Laura Dern, Andra Day, Bradley Cooper, Christine Ebersole, Ciarán Hinds, Sean Hayes, Amy Sedaris, Jordan Jensen, Chloe Radcliffe, Reggie Conquest, Scott Icenogle, Blake Kane, Calvin Knegten, James Tom, Gabe Fabio and Peyton Manning   Distributor: Searchlight Pictures

Grade: C

Your reaction to Bradley Cooper’s “Is This Thing On?” may come down to your ability to swallow a coincidence that occurs midway through the film.  Alex Novak (Will Arnett) has separated from his wife Tess (Laura Dern) after two decades of marriage—and two young sons, Felix and Jude (Blake Kane and Calvin Knegten)—and has accidentally stumbled into an avocation doing standup at a NYC comic club.  (He initially performed to avoid paying a cover charge to the bar he wanted to visit.)  One night Tess goes out on a sort-of date with Laird (Peyton Manning), and he suggests that after dinner they go to a club.  Guess which one he chooses.  And guess who pops up onstage as they’re seated.

If the scene strains credulity, it must be admitted that it actually plays pretty well, as Tess’ reaction to Alex’s set (exceptionally well captured by Dern) exhibits her understanding of his emotional state.  What doesn’t work is the set itself.  Indeed, the film never convinces us that Alex’s material, all drawn from his unhappy life (a fact that disturbs one of his sons who carelessly reads his notebook), would engage audiences, however much they might have had to drink.  Nor does Alex’s sweaty, hesitant delivery seem likely to attract much applause. 

But you have to accept the implausibility of Alex’s success with his whining-as-therapy routine and Tess’ stumbling upon his newfound hobby if the movie is going to satisfy you at all.  Some will find that easier to do than others.

Tess’ hesitant return to the dating scene, moreover, isn’t the only change she’s making in her life.  She’s moving back into the workplace after years as a stay-at-home wife and mother just as Alex is becoming obsessed with his new gig while ignoring his job in finance (he never goes to the office, and his increasingly rumpled appearance would hardly seem in place there). A former Olympic volleyball player, Tess returns to the sport as a coach and manager, though the script offers just snatches of that compared with the time it expends on Alex’s improbable success with his desultory meanderings about his post-marital experiences, which perhaps make his audiences feel better about their lives by comparison.

You’ll also have to go along with the quirkiness that fills the script’s side issues.  The Novaks are friends with two other couples.  One consists of Stephen (Sean Hayes) and his husband Geoffrey (Scott Icenogle).  But more important is their relationship with Balls (Cooper), Alex’s best buddy and an aspiring actor who changes his facial hair along with his minor roles, and his wife Christine (Andra Day); feeling somewhat lost themselves as their children go off into the world, they use their very different observations about Alex and Tess’ separation to conclude separately that distancing might be right for them too.  Cooper’s performance as Balls, a stoner dude whose own thespian aspirations seem even more remote than Alex’s stand-up potential, could have used some of the restraint another director might have imposed—the effect is smirkingly showy—but Day’s brittleness carries some punch.

More satisfying, though in a somewhat sitcom way, is an older couple—Alex’s parents Marilyn (Christine Ebersole) and Jan (Ciarán Hinds).  Though very dissimilar—she’s down-to-earth and critical of her son’s choices, he’s softer and empathetic, even visiting Alex’s set and sympathizing with his emotional plight—their marriage, though challenged by the disruption of their son’s (Marilyn is uncompromising in her decision to remain close to Tess, and their willingness to welcome the boys anytime is clear) is a stark contrast to the others in the limelight in its willingness to compromise.

Ebersole and Hinds, each in his own way, offer the most ingratiating turns of all the adults in the film, though Kane and Knegten are also engaging as the boys.  Of the two leads Dern comes off better, capturing incisively how torn Tess is about the breakup, and making us feel her mixed reaction to hearing Alex’s stand-up ruminations about a post-breakup sexual encounter with a club colleague (Jordan Jensen).  But Arnett’s dive into drama is uneven; he embraces Alex’s pain, but the effect comes across as one-note, and he never really convinces us of the character’s reality.  The ensemble surrounding them is impressive: Alex’s colleagues at the club are played by actual stand-ups, and Amy Sedaris is spot-on as the place’s host.

The club’s raucous vibe is also felt in Matthew Libatique’s cinematography, which employs the boxy Academy format, as well as lots of hand-held camerawork and close-ups, to lend immediacy to the proceedings throughout.  Kevin Thompson’s production design and Gali Noy’s costumes add to the sense of authenticity, Charlie Greene’s editing is sharp, and James Newberry’s score doesn’t overplay its hand.

But in the end the film comes across as less than persuasive as a portrait of a marriage in crisis despite being loosely based on a real person—English comedian John Bishop, whose foray into stand-up led to reconciliation with his wife.  The title, after all, refers not just to the mic that performers are always tapping to ensure that it’s live, but to the Novak marriage, the issue being whether it’s still viable.  And while the ending isn’t sappily cathartic, the events leading up to it indicate that Alex and Tess are inching toward giving their joint “thing” another chance, reflected in the closing performance by their boys of “Under Pressure,” the song they’re periodically shown practicing for a school talent show.

Credit Cooper with straining to dramatize how difficult it is to keep a marriage together over time, but his effort, while clearly dedicated, doesn’t quite come off.