Bradley Cooper’s Forgettable Dramedy Proves the Answer Is ‘Barely’

Writer Joseph J. Airdo // Phoenix Film Critics Society

Even the most assured filmmakers can stumble when they mistake intimacy for insight. Bradley Cooper, who earned acclaim transforming grandiose subjects into emotionally resonant cinema with “A Star Is Born” and “Maestro,” attempts something smaller and more personal with “Is This Thing On?” The result proves that scaling down doesn’t necessarily mean digging deeper — sometimes it just means there’s less to hold onto.

Inspired by British comedian John Bishop’s real-life experience of working through marital troubles via open-mic therapy, Cooper’s third directorial effort stars Will Arnett as Alex Novak, a middle-aged New Yorker whose 20-year marriage to former Olympic volleyball player Tess (Laura Dern) has quietly dissolved. Rather than a dramatic rupture, their relationship simply deflated — two people who stopped seeing each other somewhere between carpool lanes and parent-teacher conferences. As Tess rediscovers her athletic passion and Alex attempts stand-up comedy as a form of public confessional, the film asks whether love can be reimagined rather than simply abandoned.

It’s a thoughtful premise that unfortunately never develops into a compelling narrative. Cooper, who co-wrote the screenplay with Arnett and Mark Chappell, seems so committed to avoiding melodrama that he’s drained the story of meaningful stakes. We’re told Alex and Tess have drifted apart, but the film never convincingly establishes what brought them together in the first place or why their reconciliation matters. They’re unhappy people shuffling through the logistics of separation, but the distinction the film tries to draw — that they’re unhappy in their marriage rather than with it — registers as semantic wordplay rather than emotional truth.

The central problem plaguing “Is This Thing On?” is its own premise: Alex’s stand-up comedy simply isn’t funny. Not in a deliberate cringe-comedy way that might illuminate his vulnerability, but in a way that makes his repeated stage appearances baffling. His delivery is unpolished and his material falls painfully flat, especially when contrasted with the actual comedians populating the fictionalized Comedy Cellar, including Jordan Jensen, Chloe Radcliffe and Reggie Conquest. The film wants us to believe Alex is finding his voice and building an audience, but there’s no discernible reason why anyone would return for a second show, much less become a regular. When your movie hinges on stand-up-as-therapy, the comedy needs to work on some level — as catharsis, as craft, as connection. Here, it’s simply uncomfortable to witness.

To his credit, Arnett commits fully to the dramatic opportunity. Best known for his comedic work on “Arrested Development” and as the voice of LEGO Batman, he approaches Alex’s midlife unraveling with genuine vulnerability. There’s no winking at the camera, no reaching for easy laughs. He tries hard to locate the humanity in a man who’s spent decades in a supporting role and is now struggling to write his own material — both literally and metaphorically. It’s the kind of against-type performance that deserves notice, even if the film surrounding it doesn’t give him enough to work with.

The same cannot be said for the rest of the cast, who feel underutilized or miscast entirely. Laura Dern, an actress capable of volcanic emotional depth, is given frustratingly little to do beyond serving as a lens through which we observe Alex’s journey. Tess’s own awakening — returning to volleyball, contemplating a coaching career for the 2028 Olympics — should provide equal narrative weight, but instead feels like narrative obligation. The film pays lip service to her rediscovery but never makes us feel what she’s reclaiming.

The supporting ensemble fares no better. Andra Day’s Christine and Cooper’s own performance as the eccentrically-monikered Balls (yes, really) register as quirky sketches rather than fully realized people. Sean Hayes and his real-life husband Scott Icenogle appear as the couple’s only friends with a functional relationship, but they’re given little screen time to make an impression. Even the appearance of two-time Super Bowl champion Peyton Manning as Laird, Tess’s old volleyball friend and potential romantic interest, lands with a thud. Manning’s wooden delivery and visible discomfort on camera inadvertently drain tension from what should be a pivotal scene — the moment Alex discovers his wife moving forward without him.

Cooper’s technical choices prove equally questionable. After the fluid camerawork and meticulous period recreation of “Maestro,” he opts here for an unusual 1.66:1 aspect ratio and shoots the entire film with a single 40mm lens on handheld camera (which he operated himself). These decisions, explained in production notes as creating an “unsafe” feeling reminiscent of living in New York, mostly just feel constraining and distracting. The boxier frame doesn’t enhance intimacy so much as it announces itself, pulling attention away from performances that need all the help they can get.

What’s most disappointing about “Is This Thing On?” is how forgettable it feels. Cooper built his directorial reputation on taking big swings — the raw immediacy of “A Star Is Born’s” live musical performances, the ambitious recreation of Leonard Bernstein’s life in “Maestro.” This feels like a filmmaker playing it safe, mistaking small scale for emotional authenticity. The film gestures toward profound questions about identity, partnership and self-actualization at midlife, but never earns the insights it’s reaching for.

There are glimmers of what might have been. The opening sequence, featuring a vibrant Chinese New Year lion dance at an elementary school while Alex sits numb and disconnected, effectively visualizes internal crisis through external spectacle. A scene where Alex finally appears on stage in full frame — after Cooper deliberately shoots him only in profile for much of the film — theoretically should land as a moment of revelation. But without the emotional architecture to support these choices, they register as clever ideas in search of a coherent vision.

For audiences far removed from Manhattan comedy clubs and Brooklyn loft apartments, “Is This Thing On?” offers little to connect with beyond the universal challenge of reinvention. But even that theme needs characters worth investing in and a story that earns its emotional beats. What we get instead is a film that mistakes aimlessness for authenticity and calls it art.

Cooper has proven himself a filmmaker of considerable talent and ambition. “Is This Thing On?” suggests even the best can lose their way when the material is too thin to support the weight of good intentions. This is a minor, forgettable entry in what will hopefully remain a significant directorial career — proof that scaling back sometimes just means there’s less to remember.

★★☆☆☆