Andy is a technician in an American version of Dixons. The boys on the sales floor view him as a nerdy oddity ‘cause of his massive collection of boxed action figures and penchant for cycling. When they realize he’s a virgin, it’s too much. They vow to get him laid. Reluctantly succumbing to their untutored advice Andy undergoes a crash course in the crassness of mating and dating. But when Andy falls for a single mom he finds the lads’ advice worse than useless. And so do they.
If you’re happy with jokes about erections, vomiting and ladmag lowlife, this is the bizz. But watch out, for it’s also a bitingly sharp vindication of virginity, sex-in-marriage, and waiting. All wrapped up in great performances, razor-edged dialogue and torrents of effing. It says more about relationships, sex and infantile blokes than most other sex comedies put together. Carrell is brilliant, but gets great support from the sad-sack losers around him and the girls who put up with them. Colourful characters, pneumatic nudity and exploding condoms live alongside real romantic comedy. Crass not cruel, this is in-your-face humour (literally) and a life-lesson. Intelligent, gross, principled and, appropriately, bonkers. Rude certainly but more pure than puerile.