This review may contain spoilers. No, wait! No spoilers! He said “NO SPOILERS!”

If you aren’t familiar with Tim Robinson’s brand of short-fuse cringe comedy, for which he gained huge success in the mainstream with Netflix’s sketch series I Think You Should Leave, walking into the new film by first-time director Andrew DeYoung might be a mistake. Right off the bat, most of the film’s early laughs derive from prior knowledge of Robinson’s persona. Not that watching him carry an all-too full coffee mug down an office building hallway isn’t humorous on its own, but it is only amplified with the preparedness that this is only a small reflection of how absurd things are about to get. Like watching a horror movie, and much of this film is not far off from the bounds of that genre, you are gearing up to scream, still in the suspense waiting for the scare around the corner.

Robinson’s physicality is immediately put to proper use as the lonely husband and father, Craig Waterman, lacking experience and connection with any fellow member of the same gender that floats around his orbit. Days begin and end the same as he strives to find something to look forward to. His wife, Tami (Kate Mara) has recently recovered from her cancer diagnosis, his son Steven (Jack Dylan Grazer) doesn’t seem to have time for him and even has already seen the new Marvel without him (“It’s supposed to be NUTS.”) But everything in Craig’s life begins to change, perhaps for the better, when thanks to a wrongly-delivered piece of mail, he is introduced to its rightful recipient, Austin Carmichael (Paul Rudd), the local weatherman. Austin, due to Paul Rudd’s naturally kind and jolly charm, instantly brings Craig into his cool-guy world, introducing him to his friends for some late-night beers, taking walks in the woods collecting mushrooms, and even illegally exploring the aqueduct outside the city. But all good things can’t last as Craig’s inability to properly socialize without catastrophe leads Austin to suggest they go their separate ways. Unfortunately for Austin, Craig’s irrational attitude facing this abandonment has no limits.

This isn’t the first time Paul Rudd has starred in a movie about a man befriending an over-the-top weirdo who can’t seem to leave him alone (see I Love You, Man and Dinner For Shmucks). Rudd, even at his most hokey, is perfectly-cast as an irresistible and ideal model citizen, to the point where anyone would feel inferior in his presence. Pairing him with a comedic talent like Tim Robinson only makes Rudd more authentically wholesome and Robinson all the more a lunatic. Kate Mara as Craig’s wife is also brilliant casting, bringing a realistic warmth to her role, making him seem far more alien-like just standing next to her. A more comedically adept performer in her role would have made Robinson seem, if even just slightly, like a more normal guy. If this film was filled with funny people, Robinson’s Craig wouldn’t stick out so much like he does, and that’s the point. What is he doing here? Why is this guy married to that woman? Why does that guy have that job? Why isn’t this guy in an insane asylum? Why this this guy in his own movie?

The balancing of brilliantly demented comedy with genuinely creepy thriller elements creates a mind-melting fusion full of spontaneity. Are we supposed to fear Craig like a supernatural presence or are we supposed to laugh at him? DeYoung expertly utilizes Robinson’s fully-committed facial expressions and bumbling inability to fit into regular human society, zooming in on his frustrated but earnestly lovesick glares and blocking a perfectly executed, out-of-nowhere pratfall. Like a thriller, the suspense of this movie often comes with the anticipation of a gut-bust laugh. This moment is too quiet for a comedy, something is going to happen… (crashes through a glass door). It would be easy for this tone to get repetitive but Robinson is so effortlessly unpredictable, stifling a laugh may not be easy. One particular drug-induced sequence ending abruptly leads to one of the year’s funniest moments, mostly thanks to Robinson’s explosive reaction.

Friendship is certainly of an acquired comic taste, but if you’re a fan of Tim Robinson’s comedic sensibilities or as long as you’re willing to ride its wavelength, you should have no issue cracking a smile within the film’s first few seconds. One wonders if either taking Robinson out of the movie would make this a full-on thriller or having him in the movie is what makes the film a thriller. Fear and funny can coexist, as they do thanks to his warped aura. A deeply uncomfortable presence put to brilliant use.