Judd Apatow: a producer of lacklustre humdrum comedies which for some unfathomable reason are hugely successful.
His portfolio includes scripts which, in an attempt to portray real life speech, are filled with staccato lines and awkward moments between awkward people. The result is not-that-comedic comedies and not-that-entertaining entertainment filled with not-that-talented talent. He has slowly filled Hollywood with dull-looking, dull-acting actors who you wouldn’t even recognise if they were in front of you holding their headshot. He has inflicted us with the likes of Jason Segel and Paul Rudd, who with their complete lack of charisma make Hollywood films look about as exciting as a speech at an Accountants’ convention.
Apatow is also responsible for unleashing the similarly overrated yet bland as fuck Lena Dunham and her wannabe edgy, but casually racist, narcolepsy-inducing Girls, a show as drab and uninteresting as the writer and star herself, who I would caricature if it wasn’t for the fact that she has no memorable features to her bland, bloated, face. The only generation she speaks for is the white and wealthy offspring of talentless hacks like Apatow himself.
Judd Apatow is now a byword for mediocre tales of middle-class banality. Seeing his name in the opening credits of a film or TV show pretty much guarantees a dull (usually frat-pack-filled) outing focussing on the mundanities of white, middle-aged, middle-American life. After viewing any of the flicks from his filmography, you wish you could un-watch all you have had the unfortunate misfortune of watching. Anybody who claims to enjoy his cinematic efforts are usually as dismal and dreary as the celluloid on offer.
Judd Apatow: still writing and producing, even though nobody is laughing.