Is This Thing On? Review: Funny How That’s Not Funny

Midlife crisis movies aren’t exactly in short supply, but Is This Thing On? manages to stand out—for all the wrong reasons. Directed and co-written by Bradley Cooper (who also shows up in a supporting role), this well-cast but wildly misguided comedy-drama stars Will Arnett (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles) as Alex Novak, a recently separated father of two who stumbles into New York’s stand-up comedy scene as a form of post-divorce therapy. What could’ve been a grounded exploration of grief, identity, and reinvention ends up feeling like a vanity project for a guy trying to convince us he should be headlining The Comedy Cellar* after a couple open mics.

The premise, loosely based on comedian John Bishop’s real-life story, isn’t the issue. There’s genuine potential in watching a couple drift apart without explosions or courtroom drama. Alex and Tess (Laura Dern, Smooth Talk), both entering new chapters of their lives, are trying to co-parent their kids while figuring out who they are outside of marriage. That could be rich, compelling territory. But the film puts all its eggs in Alex’s basket—and Arnett just isn’t the guy to carry them.

Arnett is talented in his lane—there’s a reason BoJack Horseman worked—but this role demands a level of emotional transparency and inner depth that he simply can’t reach. His stand-up scenes are especially painful, not because the jokes bomb (they do), but because the movie actually wants us to believe he’s on the verge of becoming a star. In reality, it’s more like watching someone read their notes at a wedding toast and calling it art.

Meanwhile, Dern is doing serious work. As Tess, she brings nuance and muscle to every scene, even when the script undercuts her. The problem is that their scenes together feel wildly uneven. Dern’s trying to play an emotional tennis match, and Arnett’s hitting wiffle balls over the net. Her performance looks strained not because it’s weak, but because she’s constantly compensating for her scene partner.

Cooper (A Star is Born) pops in as Alex’s best friend “Balls,” a perpetually confused actor in a collapsing marriage of his own. Honestly? He’s great. Cooper brings warmth, weirdness, and just the right kind of chaos to the role. Same with Andra Day (The United States vs. Billie Holliday), who plays his wife Christine, although her character’s sudden anger at Alex seems unmotivated and underwritten. There are flickers of insight scattered throughout—especially in the more intimate friend scenes—but none of them get enough air to matter.

The film also suffers from some surprisingly amateurish technical choices. Shot by Matthew Libatique (yes, Black Swan and Maestro Matthew Libatique), the visuals here lean on unflattering close-ups and handheld shakiness that never settle into a style. The movie’s gritty aesthetic doesn’t reflect emotional rawness so much as poor planning. Even the editing feels off, with scenes fading out just as they start to breathe.

And can we talk about the logic? At one point, Alex signs up for an open mic just to avoid paying a cover charge when all he wants is a drink. A few scenes weeks later, we’re supposed to buy that he’s opening for a headliner on the main stage. In real life, comedians spend years grinding through terrible gigs to earn that stage time—especially if they’re not white guys in their 50s.

The film’s refusal to interrogate Alex’s privilege makes its fantasy arc feel even more tone-deaf. Worse, its depiction of New York’s comedy scene, one of the most diverse and dynamic in the country, feels sanitized. We get one fleeting mention of Def Comedy Jam from a Black comic as if that checks a box. Then later, during a school concert where Alex’s sons are performing, the camera lingers only on the Black vocalists. The optics? Weird.

For all its claims of being about rediscovery and reconciliation, the movie leans so far into Alex’s POV that it forgets Tess is also rediscovering her sense of self. Had it truly balanced both journeys, Is This Thing On? could have made a smart counter-programming play against holiday blockbusters. Instead, it feels like a personal favor to a friend—one that shouldn’t have been distributed this widely.

In the end, it’s not just the stand-up routines that fall flat. It’s the film’s whole approach to storytelling, character, and tone. It wants to be honest, but it doesn’t want to get uncomfortable. It wants to ask questions, but it’s too afraid to answer them.

And if this is what healing looks like? Maybe some people shouldn’t grab the mic.

*When in NYC, do yourself a favor and hit up The Comedy Cellar. Each stage offers a different experience but it’s one of those “must-see” Big Apple experiences most people miss out on because it requires some effort.  It’s absolutely worth it.