Walking into a screening of Sleepwalk with Me without having any idea who Mike Birbiglia is probably only helps you enjoy this film adaptation of his half-stand-up, one-man show of the same name. Otherwise, it may be a little hard to sympathize with Birbiglia’s early career struggles, considering that he was having major career success well before turning 30. Your rise to stardom took a few years? Boo-frigging-hoo.
Similarly, it won’t hurt if you’ve never seen Private Parts, the 1997 Howard Stern biopic, whose blueprint of “comedian incorporates honest talk about his life, is rewarded with success” is on full display here.
But neither matters much, because taken on its own merits Sleepwalk with Me is well-constructed storytelling that eschews the “laugh at me” desperation plaguing so many comedians for a combination of sincerity, subtle smarts, and impeccable timing.
Matt Pandamiglio (Birbiglia) has a problem. Pressure is mounting for him to marry Abby (Lauren Ambrose), his girlfriend of eight years. “I didn’t feel like my life was on sure-footing,” he says—to us—by way of explaining his reluctance, pointing to a stalled-in-the-starting-blocks comedy career and a bartender gig that isn’t paying the bills very well. Is there more to it? All he knows for sure is that he’s started sleepwalking, a behavior that’s becoming more dangerous by the episode.
Sleepwalk with Me is interwoven by two threads: the past-tense, mostly-chronological flashbacks that deliver the storyline; and Matt’s present-tense narration, which by turns comments and reflects on the plot, sometimes directly to the audience from behind the wheel of his car. There’s no apparent reason for being along for the ride (except maybe just that: we’re along for the ride?), but the choice to embody some of the voiceover helps inoculate it against getting stale.
The choice also helps us engage with our protagonist (which he is, he reminds us at a point in the story when he’s anything but heroic). Part of Birbiglia’s appeal is his unaffected, Woody Allenesque delivery, which at its best sounds like being naturally clever or funny without acting the part.
But Sleepwalk with Me truly succeeds because it isn’t foremostly a comedy, a choice for which Birbiglia and his three co-writers (including This American Lifer Ira Glass, a comedic cognate of Birbiglia) are to be praised. The quartet has written Sleepwalk with Me as a strongly narrative piece of cinema, efficiently getting from Points A to Z after clearly signposting the themes and characters that are the salient landmarks along the way.
We don’t really mind that some of those characters are little more than types, since Birbiglia and company show sharp eyes for human social behavior. Whatever their inner worlds are like, some people really do express themselves almost exclusively in platitudes. (“She’s a keeper!” an older woman tells Matt, patting Abby on the knee, and you wince and look around, afraid someone in the audience just saw themselves truthfully lampooned.)
Importantly, Matt and Abby are no such stuff. Matt is Birbiglia, so no surprise there. It’s Abby that could have gone wrong; but the nuances in Ambrose’s performance invest Abby with a fragile, complex humanity beneath a surface so attractive that everyone feels (as Matt puts it, with full understanding that it ain’t good) “the best thing about my life is my girlfriend.”
As directors, Birbiglia and Seth Barrish have composed the film together just about as smartly as they could have, spending exactly the right amount of time on every scene and shot. Birbiglia’s spot-on delivery doesn’t make “I zinged him. Because I’m a comedian” come off nearly as funny as it does were the framing and timing less than perfect. But they’re not.
Sleepwalk with Me is funny—very funny in spots. But it would be a minor injustice to relegate it to a genre. This is a recondite, idiosyncratic story that poignantly touches on one human’s truth, and perhaps on sentiments far more universal.
Sleepwalk with Me is playing at the Art Theatre of Long Beach (2025 E. 4th Street, LB 90804) for a very limited engagement. For info on show times call (562) 438-5435 or visit arttheatrelongbeach.com.
***
SUPER SPECIAL BONUS LONG BEACH TRIVIA: Ben Levin, who has a supporting part in Sleepwalk with Me, is the grandson of Tom Hennessy, who retired in 2011 after a 31-year career as a columnist for the Press-Telegram. Mr. Hennessy was at the screening I attended and said he felt the film was a bit long. Writers are so picky.