That, too, can be credited to the screenplay. But for both of these graces, you also have to thank Hill and Cera, who strike up a wonderful chemistry with each other and make use of very well-placed improvisation. And producer Judd Apatow — who’s long indulged a taste for improv — gets a pat on the head for giving the pair the freedom to bring out jokes and essential moments that could never have emerged from cappuccino-fueled laptop pecking.
These seem like small measures, but that’s all it takes to separate Superbad from the sickening horde. For being more like After Hours than American Pie 2, I’m happy to overlook Superbad's lack of ambition and call it the funniest and least depressing mainstream comedy in years.
