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Review: Celeste and Jesse Forever

What's social climbing Celeste (co-writer Rashida Jones) to do when her affable go-nowhere husband (Andy Samberg) starts to feel like an anchor? She stops treating him like a partner and starts treating him like a dog — six months after the divorce, he lives in the backyard, they still spend every day together, and the only thing off limits is sex. There's nothing worse than an independent movie that plays like a Hollywood formula picture, so luckily director Lee Toland Krieger abandons the rom-com setup to explore the downside of being independent and emotionally withholding. What's unfortunate is that the sub-Apatow set pieces (one subplot ends up being an overlong setup for a masturbation joke) throw the film's tone off balance irrevocably. With such erratic construction, the scant 91-minute runtime feels like it goes on forever. I'd have rather watched a movie about Emma Roberts's Ke$ha-esque pop star, who wanders around swigging bottles of wine and dispensing advice to Celeste; she has staying power.