CityLife

I Love You, Man

Rashida Jones as Zooey and Paul Rudd as Peter Klaven

COINED in the mid nineties and popularised almost a decade later, the term metrosexual is now firmly embedded in popular culture, redefining so-called masculine norms.

It's now acceptable for men to clutter the bathroom with beauty products, and spend hundreds of pounds on their clothes and bodies.

I Love You, Man is a hilarious comedy of social mores, which surveys the emotional fallout when a quintessential, 21st century, 30-something metrosexual is forced to rediscover the primal hunter-gatherer within.

His guide to the rules of male bonding is a confident, assured gay man with a passion for sports, fishing and video games.

Writer-director John Hamburg takes great delight in up-ending convention, milking laughs from unexpected sources as the lead character makes a series of toe-curling faux pas in trying to enlarge his circle of drinking buddies.

Los Angeles estate agent, Peter Klaven (Rudd), is head over heels in love with his long-term girlfriend Zooey (Jones). He proposes and she excitedly accepts, telling all of her gal pals the good news.

Ushers

Peter realises he lacks a circle of male friends to call upon as best man and ushers and nervously embarks on a series of 'man dates', with encouragement and guidance from his gay brother, Robbie (Samberg).

Woman-chasing slacker Sydney Fife (Segel) gets under Peter's skin and the pair become best friends, discovering an affinity for the rock group Rush.

As the friendship blossoms, Zooey begins to feel a little neglected and Peter is forced to re-evaluate his priorities.

I Love You, Man bears the hallmarks of one of Judd Apatow's bro-mantic comedies but this is all Hamburg's creation and a delightful and charming confection at that.

The natural spark between Rudd and Segel is irresistible, peppered with obscenities and ad-libs, building to a genuinely moving scene between the characters at the altar that leaves a lump in the throat.

Obvious gay jibes are largely sidestepped in favour of more sophisticated humour and the occasional bad taste interlude, largely at Peter's expense.

I Love I Love You, Man.