The movies are not wanting when it comes to portrayals of doomed, toxic relationships, whether they are played for tragic or comic effect. On one hand there is Last Tango in Paris, Blue Valentine, Mike Newell’s underrated Dance with a Stranger. On the other, there is much of Woody Allen’s filmography. Implicit in these films is the sense that two principle characters simultaneously cannot be with or without each other, and we wait, sometimes breathlessly, to see what this paradox yields. 

The Climb finds itself in the comic camp and is the story of a toxic bromance rather than a romance. Kyle (Kyle Marvin, who co-wrote) is kind, reliable, and a pushover, not only to his friends but to his girlfriends and his mother. Mike (Michael Angelo Covino, who co-wrote and directs) is impulsive, lonely, angry, and incredibly selfish. In the very first scene, while on a picturesque pre-wedding bike trip in the mountains of France, Mike reveals to Kyle that he slept with his friend’s fiancée, Ava (Judith Godrèche), thus destroying Kyle’s marriage and, temporarily, their friendship. 

Their friendship, however, is not over, and throughout the film we watch them break up and get back together. Both are trapped in different dead-ends and rather pathetic. Their perpetual misanthropy is what drives the comedy. 

The film is made deliberately and with style. The camera is restless, tracking characters as they move throughout spaces, often from many different angles, in one continuous take. Individuals are framed distinctively, often through windows or down hallways, and the sound design admirably captures a variety of voices and absurd bits of dialogue in the many party scenes.

Many episodes are bookended by heightened musical numbers of different genres, and while their purpose might be dubious, they are well-executed by expert musicians and are sometimes accompanied by strong choreography. Best is the filmmaker’s strong eye for bizarre visual juxtapositions, exemplified in the first scene in which Mike is beaten up by a driver he has antagonized in front of a farm while a few very nonchalant horses watch the action. 

When it comes to its actual content, The Climb is much less assured. Kyle and Michael are, perhaps, men we understand a little too well and too quickly for the film to have much steam. While there are strong and committed performances all around (Gayle Rankin, as Kyle’s girlfriend, Marissa, is especially strong), the fate of the characters is too clearly written in stone, and the movie has too much faith in the ability of their flaws and foibles to amuse the audience. Despite its embrace of the absurd, The Climb is criminally lacking in that most vital of comedic ingredients: surprise. 

It is telling to note that, while less overtly intelligent, and lacking The Climb’s art-house sheen, Pineapple Express and Step Brothers, both about tenuous though not toxic bromances, are ultimately much stronger. In both films, and in many others, we have the sense that the screenwriters, and the characters themselves, are capable of showing us something unexpected.