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There’s a bit during the titular interview when talk-show host Dave Skylark (James Franco) reads aloud the lyrics to Katy Perry’s “Firework”. A closeted fan, the Supreme Leader (Randall

Park) pleads to Dave, “no, not the chorus.” So very moving was Perry’s poetry that it threatened to crack Kim Jong-un’s composure. And I half-smiled. One single, half-arsed half-smile. Only

one because the rest of the film is centred on male anatomy jokes, liberal use of the word _cunt_ (or its derivations) and the kind of sophomoric malarkey that rarely works on me. I’m not

actually complaining about the unfunniness here though. I’d seen the trailer a lot in 2014: I knew precisely the turd I was stepping into. Equally, had it not been for the heavily

orchestrated controversy, I – like at least half of the audience – would never have bothered. Job done hackers, marketers: well played. One aspect I’m interested in though – and one relevant

to a host of contemporary films of this ilk – is the idea of modern masculinity. Like most Judd Apatow films and like pretty much everything starring Seth Rogen, _The Interview_ is a buddy

comedy. And the best-friendship between Dave and his producer Aaron (Rogen) drives the narrative; Kim Jong-un serves merely as an antagonist to test the duo’s camaraderie. Dave and Aaron are

very affectionate with one another. Noticeably so. They touch each other a lot and for the first part of the film – even though it _OMG_ couldn’t possibly be the case – there is play on the

idea that they might even be a couple. (At one point Dave even insists that Aaron inspect his stink dick crisis - yep, it’s that type of film). Of course, to balance the homoerotic

shenanigans, the two jabber incessantly about the appearance of women and seize on every opportunity to have sex with them. In fact, Dave and Aaron do much to prove that they’re horny, that

they’re virile and that - as always in this yawn-worthy genre - that they can punch above their weight when it comes to shaggin’. So how, in 2015, do we think about this film beyond it’s

comic flaws? Is the modern-ish friendship between Dave and Aaron - one marked by the kind of physical rapport that only a decade ago would have seemed… curious - a step in the right

direction? Is their more sensitive, more tactile, more comfortable-in-their-own sexuality branch of masculinity precisely what the critics of the wild west, stiff-upper lip,

just-a-good-strong-handshake-thanks-cobber kind have long been craving? Alternatively, is the fact that arse play - the unfamiliarity, the pain, the homoerotic connotations - is the basis

for so many jokes actually just more of the same: more of the mockery, more of the vanilla sex validation and more of the persecution of deviance? Can the “gag” of a man pushing a missile

into his anus ever _really_ be considered funny in a culture that stills finds anal sex and, more specifically, sex between men as dirty? I’m too young to associate “gay” with Laxettes and

too old to use it in lieu of “lame”. I think this has something to do with my puzzlement . Fortunately, the energy I conserved not laughing freed me up to ponder the few - and scarcely good

enough - reasons to see it. An Australian release is, alas, imminent.