We live in the Golden Age of Vanity. FWIW, I don’t think human nature makes dramatic right turns with each passing era. I truly believe that if the Greatest Generation changed places with the current under-20 set, the former would happily take selfies and make daily status updates while the latter would heed the call to defeat the Nazi scourge. That said, we live in a vain, vain time. And thus, a comedy about a fool who fakes his own death just to see who he can count as a true friend should have hit closer to home than the average fastball hurled by Ricky “Wild Thing” Vaughn.
Michael Harris (Ryan Hansen) – you gave an unestablished actor with a generic name a character with a generic name. Good one. – is a Grade A douchebag. His unbounded selfishness reminded me of the worst Danny McBride has to offer. As a bicycle-powered parking meter enforcer, Michael gets his jollies ticketing and then posting his conquest to Facebook. I look at this and say, “wow. You’re the worst innocuous human being on the planet.” Ah, but his actions are not innocuous. He’s attracted a stalker in Sylvie (writer/director Sarah Smick) still upset about the parking violation that changed her life.
Meanwhile in an unnecessary plot twist, Michael gets fired along with several others including not-quite-grown-up-yet Emile (James Immekus). I mentioned Michael is our –for lack of a better word – “hero,” yes? He boasts of his 417 Facebook friends and updates his wall at least once an hour. Now anybody who has more than 200 FB friends 
knows there’s a difference between a true friend and a guy who accepted your friend request. When Michael realizes his “best friend” failed to invite him to a birthday, he gets the bright idea of faking his own death just to see exactly how many of the 417 are column A acquaintances.
This is where the film goes from unseemly to downright abusive. It wasn’t enough to make us follow the douchey adventures of Captain Unfriend pulling off this ill-considered, selfish, egotistical ruse. Michael has to incorporate the manboy to pull off the stunt. And thus, he moves in with Emile and takes over the kid’s life. Emile is the kind of guy who lives at home with his mom in a sky-blue painted room with large cotton balls descending from the ceiling like clouds. Forcing Michael upon him is just cruel.
Yes, the clouds were a nice touch. I didn’t hate all of this film. In forcing Michael’s dirty work on Emile, he has the kid read set cue cards inviting specific folks to the wake (at Emile’s house, of course). He even has a Spanish translation for the house cleaner he fired two days before he faked his death. Now keep in mind, Michael fakes his death in the opening sequence to catch her skimming and now he wants so much for her to come to the wake that he has Emile dilever a prepared translated invitation. That’s impressively douchey.
At the end of the day, I cannot believe Friended to Death is not a studio film. This idea is among the worst I’ve ever heard and thus I’m astonished that real people put their own money into it. Making a film is a very, very expensive endeavor. How did you finance this turd? How? Look, next time you have a lame idea for a film, just post it on youtube like everybody else.
A parking ticket issuing “gent”
Felt updating was time well spent
He fakes expiration
To discover his nation
Seriously, pal, get bent.
Rated R, 94 Minutes
D: Sarah Smick
W: Ian Michaels, Sarah Smick
Genre: Failed commentary
Type of person most likely to enjoy this film: Maybe the pair who wrote/acted/directed it
Type of person least likely to enjoy this film: Searchers for a sharper truth
