Will Arnett in Bradley Cooper’s comedy-drama

After a quarter century as an actor, it’s no surprise that Bradley Cooper would be drawn as a subject to the cathartic nature of the show and its effects on relationships. What is less expected is that his three very accomplished films as a director have used this spark in such different ways. A star is born explored the arc of a couple experiencing the glow of the spotlight and the fading cold, respectively, while Maestro weighed the creative genius of a passionate artist with the little oxygen left to a particularly complex love story.

In Cooper’s tenderly observed third feature, Is this thing on?performance is a rebound reflex, a therapeutic way to overcome the end of a marriage and achieve the self-discovery necessary to process what went wrong – inadvertently realizing that the foundation on which it was built remains intact. It’s an unpretentious comedic drama that surprises you, its emotional honesty fueled by the magnificent, unapologetic performances of Will Arnett and Laura Dern.

Inspired by the personal story of British footballer-turned-comedian John Bishop and written by Cooper and Arnett with Mark Chappell, the film drops the bombshell of marital breakdown with a disarming absence of melodrama. “I think we need to call him, don’t we?” says Tess Novak of Dern, while cleaning her teeth before bed. “I think so too,” agrees Alex d’Arnett. Refreshingly, it is a mutual decision that does not appear to be tinged with bitterness but based on maturity and mutual respect.

Stripping away any superfluous connective tissue as well as the preamble, the storyline picks up as Alex and Tess having a friendly reunion with their friends in Manhattan – longtime married couple Christine (Andra Day) and Balls (Cooper), who will soon be empty nesters, and gay newlyweds Stephen (Sean Hayes) and Geoffrey (Hayes’ real-life husband, Scott Icenogle).

Only later, when they sit on a Grand Central platform sharing a hash cookie and Alex absently gets up to board the Metro-North train with Tess, does it become clear that the couple are already living apart.

Slightly stoned and clearly in no hurry to go home alone, Alex wanders into the Olive Tree Café in the West Village. To avoid paying the $15 entry fee, he puts his name on the sign-up sheet for the open mic night at the Comedy Cellar downstairs. After an uncertain start, he begins to speak candidly and self-deprecatingly about his divorce after 26 years from his ex, revealing that he lives alone in an apartment in the city. Apparently to his own surprise as much as everyone else’s, his impromptu material provokes laughter.

Skipping the usual scenes announcing Tess and Alex’s separation, the film focuses more on their adjustment and that of their loved ones. The main revelatory moments are those relating to Alex’s burgeoning career in stand-up, as he gains confidence and begins to feel a camaraderie with his fellow performers – many of whom are played by actors from the New York comedy scene, adding immeasurably to the film’s sense of place.

The most poignant moment takes place in Alex’s car as he drives home his 10-year-old sons (Blake Kane and Calvin Knegten) – not twins, but “Irish twins,” as he describes them on stage – after a night at his apartment. Disconcerted to find themselves and their mother serving as the subject of jokes in the notebook they discover next to their father’s bed, the boys are confused, one of them particularly upset.

It’s a forgivable cinematic ploy to see Tess on a quasi-date (with Peyton Manning in an amusing cameo) casually wander into the Comedy Cellar and see Alex’s act, just as he shares the unusual sensations of sex with another woman for the first time in decades. He also admits that he misses his ex-wife more, wondering what it is.

Arnett and Dern inhabit their characters so fully that nothing about this awkward encounter feels fake. Instead, it reveals a mutual affection and attraction that was dormant rather than dead, in a kind of funny, sexy reunion. There’s no quick fix to Tess and Alex’s marital problems, but there is a new willingness to talk about their frustrations.

Just as Alex finds contentment he lacked through stand-up, Tess returns to volleyball, a sport she excelled at in her youth, finding rewarding opportunities as a professional coach. While Alex’s evolution into stand-up is the focal point, the heart of the film is their marriage. It is the merit of the filmmakers that, rather than awakening a man, it becomes a reassessment for both partners of the value and meaning of romantic commitment.

The changes in the central couple’s relationship are also reflected in different ways in the other couples around them. This includes Alex’s parents: his father Jan (Ciarán Hinds), a warm and sensitive soul with empathetic access to his son’s feelings; and the hilariously plain-spoken Marilyn (Christine Ebersole), who makes no apologies for the close friendship with Tess that she has no intention of breaking.

The family scenes with the boys and their two big, adorably sucking dogs at home or at their grandparents’ house are so lived-in and natural – the defining strength of Cooper’s work with his entire cast – that one feels the pangs Alex feels in walking away from this life.

The other main point of marital comparison is Christine and Balls, notably during an annual group weekend with Stephen and Geoffrey at a sprawling house in Oyster Bay, Long Island, where Alex and Tess sneak around to hide the fact that they are, if not definitely back together, at least making love. (A lovely interlude as the various guests stroll towards breakfast while Christine softly sings “Amazing Grace” seems to be a direct nod to The great cold.)

In amusing crossover scenes, Balls tells Alex that seeing him so happy inspired him to ask Christine for a divorce. Christine, who has always been closer to Tess and a bit prickly with Alex, tells her that seeing him stagnate and lose his spark has confirmed her belief that marriage just isn’t working.

This is a superb ensemble piece with a wonderfully laid-back, almost improvisational vibe and an emotional trajectory that rarely goes exactly where one might expect. Cooper’s understanding of the material is unerring, giving it a sweetness that’s never cloying, a generosity of spirit that’s never undeserved. And the film’s intimacy is amplified by the frequent tight close-ups of cinematographer Matthew Libatique’s expressive visual language.

The film has the distinct feeling of a fast-paced, unpretentious shoot with a laid-back sense of community – on set, in the stand-up scene, and among Tess and Alex’s friends and family. Everything flows; nothing seems forced.

Cooper gets considerable comedic mileage from his role as a goofy stoner, beginning with a laugh-inducing entrance involving an exploding carton of oat milk. But there’s no scene stealing, just seamlessly synchronized ensemble work that keeps us invested in all the connections that revolve around Alex and Tess, roles in which Arnett and Dern couldn’t be better. Arnett’s comedic timing is evident, but the actor discovers new depths in the pain bubbling beneath.

A scene in Oyster Bay’s attic room where Alex suggests a therapeutic exercise in which they confess the things they don’t like about each other is both piquant and insightful in its insight into the give-and-take, the corrosive compromises, the pettiness that turns into resentment that can come to define a long-term relationship. But the script never abandons Alex and Tess, and neither should we.

Without spoiling too much, it’s fair to say that while there are some thematic overlaps here with Noah Baumbach’s exquisite Marriage storythe tone and ultimate outlook are totally different. It’s unlikely that a film will use Queen and David Bowie’s hit “Under Pressure” with anything close to the film’s searing emotional power. After the sun climax. But a rendition of the song by the school band that Tess and Alex’s boys play in brings its own kind of joyful release to cap this moving and satisfying film.