Alvin and Lance are as mismatched as any two people could be (in an inspired bit of costuming, the two are dressed like Mario and Luigi from the Super Mario Bros. video games). Alvin is uptight and self-serious; Lance is lazy and caustic. Alvin runs the operation. He's only hired Lance because he's the younger brother of his girlfriend. Without this connection the two would doubtless be at the other's throat in an instance (and in deed they come close to sparring on more than one occasion). They bicker, fight, and bother the other to no end (again: existential nightmare).
The film is bleak and melancholy. The characters are placed against empty, infinite roads or barren, hauntingly beautiful forests. They camp out in the woods in between painting and putting stakes in the ground. Alvin takes pleasure in the zen possibilities of isolation while Lance starts to lose it a little.
This sounds like this would be slightly depressing and down film, but it's often a very funny one. Rudd and Hirsch are exceptionally well paired and play off each other well. The languors of the film provide the context for the great bursts where Alvin and Lance argue and blow up. As the two grow increasingly angry at the other and come to understand the other, it becomes even funnier and more fulfilling.
There's a continual quirkiness and arthouse-ness about the film, starting with the premise itself. Some of this doesn't entirely work (including some lovely, Malickian shots of the natural environment). The existential tinge leads to some philosophizing (especially about a massive fire that occurred in the area their working) that feels incredibly forced. But overall the film's black comedy, loose contemplativeness, and solid characterization make it worthwhile.
Grade: B
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