I Used to Be Funny is mostly pretty heartbreaking, but Rachel Sennott delivers a terrific performance that makes the entire film, especially the ending, worth its salt. Written and directed by Ally Pankiw, the narrative mostly struggles with the pacing in the second half, making the back-and-forth between past and present a little tedious. Yet, by the time we arrive at the conclusion where Phoebe Bridgers’ “I Know the End” starts playing, everything locks into place with the kind of raw climax that feels hopeful.
It’s a thoughtful narrative from beginning to end, even when, at times, the execution works against itself. It’s also relatively effortless to predict for viewers who know and understand the signs of PTSD, but that’s not a bad thing. In fact, I’ll always be for story arcs that give us hints and seeds, which they’ll later follow up. That said, this isn’t a film to go into without warning for viewers who find sexual assault triggering. It deserves caution, and people should know what they’re in for to take care of themselves.
More than anything, I Used to Be Funny shines because of its leading star, Rachel Sennott. Neither the film nor the character’s journey are something to laugh at, but Sennott’s performances bring the right amount of levity to showcase how humor can be buried under a plethora of heartbreak. We don’t get to know the character outside of what she experiences in the hands of her specific nanny job, but we do see enough to understand that she’s someone who cares deeply about the people who deserve to be taken care of.
With this, the film also gives us intriguing characterization with Olga Petsa’s Brooke Renner, a fourteen-year-old kid whose grief and losses consume her. The dynamic between Brooke and Sam is where the film explores complex matters, bringing a true friendship born from grief and sorrow to our screens. Sam doesn’t hold Brooke’s father’s actions against her, but instead, she tries to shield Brooke from them, thus bringing her magnetic heart and spirit to life in a way that feels believable.
I Used to Be Funny also glows with exceptional friendships between Sam and her two best friends, Paige (Sabrina Jalees) and Philip (Caleb Hearon). We also see bits of her relationship with her ex-boyfriend, Noah (Ennis Esmer). These dynamics showcase loyalty and care amid someone’s struggles, making films like this worth it because they remind the audience of why compassion matters in an ugly world with cruelty taking the reins. It’s also refreshing to get a court verdict in favor of the woman, as well as interactions that highlight the importance of believing women when they come forward with their experiences.
I expected I Used to Be Funny to be more about Sam’s career as a standup comedian, but what the film delivers instead is a raw exhibition of how jokes and reality blur together in the absence of empathy. People don’t know when to take a hint or stop laughing, but they also don’t know when to extend a hand to those who need it most. When the film explores these nuances toward the end, it results in a powerful depiction of landing on one’s feet when there are people beside them consistently cheering them on. This way, the film turns into a story of falling in love with humor again after a horrible assault takes everything from you, and it becomes the type of social commentary the world could still use.
People still don’t understand the importance of feminism or agency, and that’s exactly the kind of message I Used to Be Funny explores through its main character. In allowing Sam to take center stage, the film gives Sonnett exceptional material to bring some of the most vulnerable and heart-wrenching performances through a vulnerability that feels deeply human. The execution might fumble a bit, but the movie still succeeds in telling an honest, compelling story that sympathetically marries levity and heartbreak as a form of healing.
I Used to Be Funny is now available for digital purchase.
First Featured Image | Official Poster Credit: ©Levelfilm