Jamie Effros, left, and Norbert Leo Butz in Give or Take (Breaking Glass Pictures)

Give or Take is a sweet-natured, dryly funny comedy that is not afraid to address the complex emotions that inform its humor. It begins with Martin (Jamie Effros, who also co-wrote) returning to Cape Cod, where his family summered, to arrange his father’s funeral and tie up loose ends. One of those loose ends is Ted (Norbert Leo Butz), the landscaper and handyman who had a six-year relationship with Martin’s father.

Martin, a high-powered lawyer in his 30s, is practically fused to his phone and never really speaks above a monotone. In regards to his father, he describes him as a ghost who was practically nonexistent in his life, even when he was around. All Martin wants is to cut himself off with the past and move on with his life, which includes with his girlfriend, Lauren (Annapurna Sriram), who has not accompanied him to his hometown. According to Martin, they “make sense” together and making sense of things is what he is desperate to do.

Ted, on the other hand, just wants to remain in the house he has lived in for six years, with all the memories of the man he loved. Martin never visited, so Ted has a simmering resentment toward the negligent son. Ted is also a Cape Cod lifer, deeply embedded in the fabric of the town where he and Martin’s father were well liked. Martin doesn’t seem to recognize how deep Ted is grieving the life he and his dad built together. And there’s a reason for that, which may not be what you think.

In fact, one of Give or Take’s strengths is that it doesn’t fall into the trope of “prodigal son returns home” or “son resents his parent’s new lover.” It cleverly leads you down these paths but manages to subtly direct you to less trodden grounds while keeping a dry sense of humor all the while.

Effros makes a wonderful straight man, seemingly constantly observing and taking in the quirkiness of the Cape Cod brethren that were his dad’s neighbors. There is the anxious boy next door that wants to learn to swim but is too afraid of large bodies of water (which includes pools), so he fills his garbage can up to the brim with water, puts the top down, and sings Bob Marley tunes. The perpetually stoned pool cleaner has an associate’s degree in Ethnomusicology, and a barfly at the local dive takes one look at Martin in his pressed polo shirt and dockers and states, “Sure. You’ll blend,” before turning back to his beer. Yet no one comes off as a cliché.

Give or Take is not a flashy film, but it feels like a film. There are plenty of gags that work because of the placement of the camera or the sequence of shots (this is notable when many contemporary comedies of late are shot with little visual flair). When the mood changes or darkens here, it is not just a result of the performances. Ted, when he feels his grief welling up, has a habit of shotgunning a six pack. The first time we see this is in an effective scene where the camera switches to handheld and, since it’s late at night, the lighting is muted. As Ted backs into the corner of the kitchen and slides down against a wall, trying to hold back tears, the camera moves in on him, closing off any escape or respite. We, like Ted, are forced to deal with his grief. Sorrow, regret, resentments are the themes that float up through this comedy, but they never threaten to overtake the laughs.

Give or Take may seem like it wanders and meanders, but it is actually tight as a drum. Each scene forwards the plot or strengthens relationships. Director/co-writer Paul Riggio keeps the proceedings moving swiftly without the audience feeling the movement.

All in all, Give or Take is a sweet, low-key surprise, and it is very, very funny.