Behind-the-scenes as Schumer goes through an extraordinarily difficult pregnancy while touring to prepare for a stand-up special.Behind-the-scenes as Schumer goes through an extraordinarily difficult pregnancy while touring to prepare for a stand-up special.Behind-the-scenes as Schumer goes through an extraordinarily difficult pregnancy while touring to prepare for a stand-up special.
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Amy Schumer has made a career out of oversharing. I mean, duh, isn't that what comedians do? Guys talk about their b*lls, Amy talks about her p*ssy; it's all good. I have to admit I've enjoyed her later stuff more, like the Netflix special that's at the center of this three-part miniseries about Schumer's pregnancy, her hyperemesis, and -- to a lesser extent -- her autistic-spectrum husband, Chris. That special felt more well-rounded than the usual sets about promiscuity. (Funnily enough, Schumer herself comments in one of the episodes that critics never review her single work, but always her body of work. Here I am, internet troll, doing the same thing...)
This miniseries is funny. I was constantly laughing. I love Amy's sense of humor and her sisters, all the comedians who surround her -- what's not to like? And, absolutely, my heart went out to her for enduring such a torturous pregnancy. It's not that the oversharing is a problem -- seeing Amy vomit all the time wasn't gratuitous; she was that sick! And seeing her frequently naked, and frequently looking pale and unwell, and seeing her in the hospital having the baby -- I get why people say it's brave, and I have no quarrel with any of her choices in life. Why would I? It's her life.
But a documentary is a *thing*, it's a piece of media, one might even call it art, and we're allowed to critique it for its mechanics, for what it is, for what it does. Despite its unabashed sharing -- or perhaps, counterintuitively, *because* of it -- the documentary keeps Amy insulated. And it keeps us at a distance. The sharing of her trauma and all the sickness *almost* feels like something to distract us. Is she really cracking jokes the whole time she's puking? Why is her sister always there -- what does she do? Why does Amy suddenly make the choice she does at the end? That part felt rushed and glossed over. I also got the sense that Amy has this entourage around her constantly, and is a bottomless pit of attention-seeking, but that's probably to be expected.
What the doc does well is show how Schumer, and probably most comedians, build a show. The cross-cutting between her daily life and the use of that daily-life-derived material on stage was great. Comedians are amazing, we need them more than ever, and Amy Schumer is one of the really good ones.
A documentary, though, ought to reveal its subjects somewhat objectively, without protecting them. Amy and her husband Chris are both producers here, capture all the footage themselves, and though there's some other dude listed as the director, I know Schumer controlled every aspect of this. That's not what the old greats, like Al Maysles, would call "direct cinema." This is not Grey Gardens. This is like one big long Instagram video that Schumer tightly controlled.
7/10.
This miniseries is funny. I was constantly laughing. I love Amy's sense of humor and her sisters, all the comedians who surround her -- what's not to like? And, absolutely, my heart went out to her for enduring such a torturous pregnancy. It's not that the oversharing is a problem -- seeing Amy vomit all the time wasn't gratuitous; she was that sick! And seeing her frequently naked, and frequently looking pale and unwell, and seeing her in the hospital having the baby -- I get why people say it's brave, and I have no quarrel with any of her choices in life. Why would I? It's her life.
But a documentary is a *thing*, it's a piece of media, one might even call it art, and we're allowed to critique it for its mechanics, for what it is, for what it does. Despite its unabashed sharing -- or perhaps, counterintuitively, *because* of it -- the documentary keeps Amy insulated. And it keeps us at a distance. The sharing of her trauma and all the sickness *almost* feels like something to distract us. Is she really cracking jokes the whole time she's puking? Why is her sister always there -- what does she do? Why does Amy suddenly make the choice she does at the end? That part felt rushed and glossed over. I also got the sense that Amy has this entourage around her constantly, and is a bottomless pit of attention-seeking, but that's probably to be expected.
What the doc does well is show how Schumer, and probably most comedians, build a show. The cross-cutting between her daily life and the use of that daily-life-derived material on stage was great. Comedians are amazing, we need them more than ever, and Amy Schumer is one of the really good ones.
A documentary, though, ought to reveal its subjects somewhat objectively, without protecting them. Amy and her husband Chris are both producers here, capture all the footage themselves, and though there's some other dude listed as the director, I know Schumer controlled every aspect of this. That's not what the old greats, like Al Maysles, would call "direct cinema." This is not Grey Gardens. This is like one big long Instagram video that Schumer tightly controlled.
7/10.
- timmyhollywood
- Jun 9, 2021
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