The recent comedy hit I Love You, Man explored the domestic ramifications of a newfound ‘bromance’ between heterosexual males. There must be something in the air, because this hilarious and oddly poignant lo-fi work by Lynn Shelton has similar matters in mind. It just takes them somewhere a little more extreme… Ben (Mark Duplass) is a thirtysomething professional contentedly tumbling towards middle age. He and his wife Anna (Alycia Delmore) have a cosy home in Seattle and are trying for a baby. But then the doorbell rings at 2am… The unexpected guest is Ben’s old pal Andrew (Joshua Leonard), a free spirit who has spent recent years living out all of the sex-and-travel adventures that Ben has forsworn. Deciding to stay, Andrew effortlessly finds a niche within Seattle’s druggy, arty, polyamorous subculture. Somewhat to his own surprise, Ben finds Andrew’s new social life is a catalyst for unleashing his own bohemian streak. Must he be permanently consigned to unhip suburban oblivion just because he’s married? Ben’s efforts to keep up with Andrew’s lifestyle inevitably cause problems with Anna, but once he’s got the bug, he’s desperate to assert his rebel credentials further. The ultimate opportunity arises when Andrew’s feisty pals introduce the idea of Hump Fest, a (real) amateur porn film festival held annually in Seattle. So what’s the wildest, most improbable thing two straight males can do on camera? How about … each other? The outline for Shelton’s film initially suggests the ribald absurdity of Judd Apatow or Kevin Smith, while its raw visual style and dry, verbose script draw on the conventions of ‘mumblecore’ (the voguish indie movement of which Duplass is a leading light). But Humpday’s psychological complexity transcends both sets of forebears. Such is Shelton’s skill with character interaction and actor direction that the plot appears to evolve organically before our eyes. Conversations carry subtle undertones of status play, and we witness people misguided by charisma or ego into acting entirely against their better judgement. It’s this kind of detail, plus dead-on tragicomic set pieces (Anna joylessly straddling Ben during a row, so as not to waste a day on which she’s ovulating; Andrew and Ben working out their rivalry through a truly horrible bout of one-on-one basketball), that makes Humpday a hell of a lot finer than such a funny film needs to be.