An Open Letter To Sarah Marshall

Hey you-

Hi. We’ve never met, so this may be a bit presumptuous. But if you have a minute, I want to chat about something.

So Forgetting Sarah Marshall, the latest Judd Apatow flick, comes out this Friday. And this one’s not slipping through the cracks, as their marketing campaign, chronicled expertly in this previous COMACC post, has surpassed viral to become somewhat of an epidemic. Nary a bus, billboard or friendly sign-carrying hobo passes us by without proclaiming “I’m so over you Sarah Marshall,” “My mom always hated you, Sarah Marshall,” or “Sarah ‘Slut’ Marshall.” (Or something to that effect.) Yes, perhaps they’re mean, but it’s a film. It’s fiction. We’re all having a bit of fun.

Or so we thought. Apparently, you are offended. You’ve said “I’m starting to take it personally” and that “The name Sarah Marshall has been ruined for me.” The campaign has also motivated you to do things like sign up for extra, prohibitively expensive spinning classes and “worry about my hair and makeup every day.” You’ve also demanded the company take decisive action and “specify that it’s a movie.”

Look, I’m sorry that you didn’t see the MPAA rating on the posters. And I’m sorry you ostensibly refused to visit the website or its stupid follow-up. I’m sorry that you can’t distinguish between real life and the magical realm of movie fantasy. But most of all, I’m sorry that you’re Amish (I am 90% certain of this—”Goody” Sarah Marshall?), because that means you will refuse to see the moving pictures and sounds that emanate from the devil box we normal people call a film projector.

But lo! I am the harbinger of things to come. For I have seen the (quite good) film. And your concerns are unfounded.

As writer-star Jason Segel says in this recent interview, the Sarah Marshall character (Kristen Bell) is not “strictly vilified as the cuckolding girlfriend.” Actually, she’s the least of the film’s concerns, for there’s much in Forgetting Sarah Marshall for you to be offended by. Here are a few things to get the blood boiling:

– Jason Segel shows his wang. A lot. Like, you’re just sitting there and boom! Schween and danglies all up in there.

– There are numerous (graphic) sex scenes between people who are not married. To each other, either.

– Paul Rudd has frosted his tips.

Need I go on?

Understandably, Segel could have taken a different route and named the main female character something totally unique, like Armoire Q. Legexpress, or any of the other million people who email me about online pharmacies. But using a fairly generic name universalizes the message and the experience for us filmgoers—we all know a “Sarah Marshall”; some of us know a Sarah Marshall. Plus, I’d hate to be the only Armoire Q Legexpress out there, forced to go through this all herself. At least you Sarah Marshalls have each other.

So, with that, I encourage you all to see the film and see what I mean. That is, if you’re on rumspringa.

Have a gr-8 summer,

Steve Heisler
Resident COMACC Sarah Marshall correspondent