Best of SXSW: Comedies
March 24th, 2025 / Kevin Ward
SXSW has always been a festival of discovery. While the marquee premieres and big-name projects draw the most attention, it’s often the unexpected films—the ones that creep up on you, defy expectations, or leave a lingering impression—that make the festival experience truly special. This year was no different. Beyond the buzzier titles, a handful of films stood out for their creativity, energy, and sheer originality.
The Threesome
The Threesome, directed by Chad Hartigan, opens with a long, cold open--an approximately 10-11 minute long spontaneous sexual encounter between a guy his long-standing co-worker crush, and a relative stranger. That encounter—between Connor (Jonah Hauer-King), Olivia (Zoey Deutch), and Jenny (Ruby Cruz)—could easily function as a punchline in another film. Instead, Hartigan treats it with an unexpected level of seriousness—not in tone, necessarily, but in implication. He’s less interested in provocation than process: what does it mean to move forward from a moment that was both deeply desired and totally destabilizing?
To that end, the film strikes an impressively sustained tonal balance. It is, perhaps most surprisingly, wildly funny throughout—but rarely at the expense of its characters. Hartigan resists both the easy melodrama of the love triangle and the sitcom-ish absurdity it might suggest. Instead, he presents his trio as confused, fallible, and increasingly entangled, mining comedy not from contrivance, but from plausible human behavior under mildly ridiculous circumstances.
Deutch and Cruz, both magnetic presences, navigate their characters' shifting rapport with intelligence and grace. That they also looked like movie stars at the premiere is, perhaps, beside the point—but worth noting. Hauer-King is well cast as a kind of rom-com beta male, his hesitance and self-doubt becoming quietly tragicomic. And Jaboukie Young-White, in a supporting role, brings a welcome shot of chaotic energy—he’s doing a version of his usual thing, but it works.
The Threesome is, finally, a sharp, emotionally intelligent comedy that’s also riotously funny. What’s most surprising is how likeable and empathetic all three leads remain throughout—a setup like this practically begs for a foil, yet none emerges. Instead, we’re given three genuinely human characters fumbling through a complex emotional situation with warmth, humor, and grace. Really, really loved it.
Credits: Directed by Chad Hartigan. Written by Ethan Ogilby. starring Zoey Deutch, Jonah Hauer-King, Ruby Cruz, Jaboukie Young-White, Josh Segarra, Robert Longstreet, Arden Myrin, Kristin Slaysman, Allan McLeod, Julia Sweeney. Production: Studio Star Thrower Entertainment. US Release Date: Awaiting distribution.
Credit: Star Thrower Entertainment
The Ballad of Wallis Island
The Ballad of Wallis Island is one of those quietly brilliant little surprises that creeps up on you, delivering both gut-busting laughs and a gentle emotional wallop by the end. Loved, loved, loved this. Tim Key is so f🤩king funny in this, it almost feels criminal not to hand him a medal—or at least a BAFTA.
Key plays a reclusive multi-lottery winner who’s cashed in all his luck and riches to reunite his favorite long-defunct musical act, McGwyer and Mortimer. He hires Herb McGwyer (a perfectly understated Tom Basden) to perform a private show on his eccentric (and privately owned) Wallis Island, of course. But the twist? Key's character has also secretly invited Nell Mortimer (Carey Mulligan, excellent as always), Herb’s estranged former musical partner and ex-lover, in hopes they’ll make music together again. What could go wrong?
There’s a warm, magical quality to this setup that feels reminiscent of a John Carney film—just, you know, less Irish. It shares that same heart-on-its-sleeve tenderness and musical whimsy of Carney's films. Mulligan and Basden are truly excellent, infusing Herb and Nell with a lingering affection that pulses through every note and glance. But as the initial spark of reunion fades, old rhythms falter, and the unresolved tensions in their shared past rise to the surface—painfully exposing the emotional dissonance that once broke them apart. The Ballad of Wallis Island may not unfold how you expect, but like any great song, I'll be humming it's tune for quite some time. Truly, though...Key's every line delivery is pure comedy gold and may go down as my favorite comedic performance of the year.
Credits: Directed by James Griffiths. Written by Tim Key, Tom Basden. Starring Carey Mulligan. Produced by Baby Cow Productions. US Release Date: March 28, 2025—Focus Features
Credit: Alistair Heap/Focus Features ©2025 All Rights Reserved
Friendship
Friendship, starring Tim Robinson and Paul Rudd, is a delightfully absurd comedy about the agony and awkwardness of adult loneliness, wrapped in a cartoonishly heightened package that feels like an extended sketch in the best way. Craig (Robinson), a jittery, overly eager man with zero social intuition, becomes instantly infatuated with his new neighbor Austin (Rudd)—a guy so effortlessly cool.
Let’s get this out of the way: I am on board with everything Tim Robinson does. If you’re not already tuned into his particular frequency—loud, sweaty desperation with a hint of deranged sincerity—this might be a lot. But if you do vibe with his humor, you’ll probably enjoy this zany take on the difficulty of making friends as adults. Robinson is essentially playing the same character he always plays (think “I Think You Should Leave” but with a longer, narrative structure), and the film smartly builds its entire emotional arc on the fragility of that character’s social aspirations.
Paul Rudd, meanwhile, is doing what Paul Rudd does best—charming the pants off everyone without lifting a finger. Austin isn’t exactly deep, but he doesn’t need to be. He’s just another version of Rudd’s casually magnetic persona, and it works like gangbusters opposite Robinson’s sweaty try-hard energy. Together, they create a bizarre yet endearing chemistry that makes you root for this deeply mismatched friendship to work.
At 90 minutes, Friendship doesn’t overstay its welcome. It may not convert Robinson skeptics, but for fans of his brand of sketch-to-scream absurdism, it’s a hilarious and oddly touching ode to the impossible yearning to be liked and accepted.
Credits: Directed by Andrew DeYoung, written by Andrew DeYoung, starring Paul Rudd, Tim Robinson, Kate Mara, Jack Dylan Grazer. Produced by A24. US Release date: May 9, 2025.
Credit: Photo by Spencer Pazer. Courtesy of A24
Death of a Unicorn
We’ve already posted a full review of this A24 oddball ahead of its release this Friday, and it easily earns a spot on our Best of SXSW: Comedies list. Packed with hilariously gruesome kills and wildly committed performances—especially from a scene-stealing Will Poulter—it’s a bloody, bizarre ride you won’t want to miss. Check out our full review here.
Credits: Directed by Alex Scharfman, written by Alex Scharfman, starring Paul Rudd, Jenna Ortega, Will Poulter, Téa Leoni, Richard E. Grant. Produced by A24. US Release date: March 28, 2025
Credit: Murray Close
Summer of 69
Directed by Jillian Bell, her impressive debut feature kicks off with the brash energy of a Superbad-adjacent teen sex comedy, only to slyly morph into something warmer, wiser, and surprisingly tender. The film follows high schooler Abby (Sam Morelos), a socially reticent teen whose self-imposed outsider status doesn’t preclude a deep yearning for connection—particularly with the recently single object of her long-standing affections. The catalyst for her journey? A conversation with the school mascot—one of the few people she's comfortable confiding in—who offhandedly reveals that Abby’s crush is rumored to be very into the numerically symmetrical and comically loaded sex act known as "69." This secondhand intel sends Abby down a rabbit hole of anxious self-education and performative overcompensation. Enter Santa Monica, a stripper played by Chloe Fineman, who works at a scrappy, neon-lit hole-in-the-wall club teetering on the edge of foreclosure, thanks to a predatory loan from a sleazeball loan shark (played by Charlie Day). With Santa Monica desperate to save her club and Abby determined to prove herself sexually, they strike a sort of quid pro quo--with the ultimate goal being mutual satisfaction, of sorts. What starts as a teen raunch-com shifts gear into a platonic rom-com, where two women. Fineman, best known for her character work on SNL, absolutely owns the screen, weaponizing her rapid-fire comedic timing and unexpectedly solid stripper moves to bring depth and pathos to a character that could’ve easily been a one-note punchline. Morelos proves a compelling straight-woman. Abby may have a dedicated online following, but in person she’s socially anxious, hiding behind a masked digital persona and struggling to show up authentically in the real world. And while Santa Monica may strut with confidence and hang with her fellow dancers, she’s no stranger to the lingering ache of adolescent exclusion—a former misfit in heels who knows exactly what it feels like to be on the outside looking in.
There’s an authenticity to the female friendship that develops between Abby and Santa Monica, and the film’s final act finds an emotional resonance few comedies of its kind aim for, let alone earn. If there was a discernible throughline from the film’s onscreen ethos to the atmosphere at its SXSW premiere, it came courtesy of Jillian Bell herself, whose warm, wry introduction set the tone for what followed: not just a film about women lifting each other up, but a creative project built on exactly that principle. That spirit of camaraderie wasn’t just narrative—it was ambient, embedded in the cast’s chemistry and the post-screening glow. Summer of 69 doesn’t just earn its laughs; it earns your affection. One of the best comedies of the fest—and one that marks Jillian Bell as a filmmaker to watch.
Credits: Directed by Jillian Bell. Written by Jillian Bell, Jules Byrne, Liz Nico. Starring Chloe Fineman, Sam Morelos, Matt Cornett, Nicole Byer, Liza Koshy, Natalie Morales, Alex Moffat, Fernando Carsa, Paula Pell, Charlie Day. Production Studio: American High. US Release Date: Awaiting distribution.
Credit: Disney/Brett Roedel
One More Shot
One More Shot takes another swig at the well-worn time loop formula, this time with a ‘90s nostalgia chaser and a splash of quarter-life crisis, and if that combination sounds like a headache, the film is smart enough to dose it with just enough bitters to keep it from being cloying. Set on the cusp of Y2K, a temporal inflection point that now feels more kitsch than cataclysm, the film follows Minnie (Emily Browning), a disaffected millennial precursor condemned to relive New Year’s Eve 1999 every time she downs a shot of vaguely enchanted tequila.
The mechanics are familiar. We’ve been here before, and so has the film. It knows its lineage, tracing steps behind Groundhog Day and Palm Springs like a partygoer retracing their steps after one too many. But if repetition is the game, One More Shot at least knows how to spin the bottle in its own direction. Browning, whose screen presence has always hovered in that liminal space between ethereal and emotionally available, is ideally cast as Minnie: a woman caught in the recursive act of measuring her identity against the wreckage of her own choices, both shaped by and resisting the sum of her regrets. Her looping ordeal becomes less about changing fate than about confronting the self she left behind in the last century and whether or not she wants to carry that same self into the next.
The film stakes its retro bona fides on a steady drip of dial-up-era detritus—90's TV costumes and Y2K bug hysteria—but it stops short of embracing the kind of maximalist excess that might have transformed its nostalgic nods into something more immersive and iconoclastic. One wishes director Nicholas Clifford had taken more cues from the maximalist confidence of something like The Wedding Singer, a film that recognized how period detail could amplify, rather than distract from, emotional momentum. While nostalgia porn is often a shortcut to sentimentality, in a comedy set on the eve of the millennium, leaning harder into that well of shared cultural memory might have yielded richer, more resonant returns...and maybe a few more laughs.
Still, what the film lacks in novelty it compensates for in tonal control. There’s a wistful clarity to its circular structure, a recognition that sometimes you don’t need to outrun your past so much as sit with it until the hangover fades. One More Shot doesn’t reinvent the time-loop movie, but it doesn’t need to. Like a well-worn mixtape rediscovered in a glove compartment, it earns its spins not by being groundbreaking, but by sounding just right in the moment you find it.
Credits: Directed by Nicholas Clifford. written by Alice Foulcher, Gregory Erdstein. Starring Emily Browning, Sean Keenan, Ashley Zukerman, Aisha Dee, Pallavi Sharda, Hamish Michael. Produced by VicScreen. US Release date: Awaiting Distribution.
Credit: Photo Credit: Ben King