His hazy, misguided motivations ring true we recognise that he is more in love with the idea of destiny's calling than actually getting off the couch. Where is the lived-in monotony, of a bong hit so familiar that it stings? Jeff is told to go outside for an errand, and he meekly abides, swinging his arms and peering curiously at the sun. He might look the part with the sullen stare, rolled shoulders, and an entire wardrobe comprised of baggy hoodies, but there is little personality beyond the intro. Segel is familiar with the role - he made mid-life loserville look effortless in Forgetting Sarah Marshall, where he was so defeated even his capacity for self-pity was all but extinguished. But the rest of the character is thinly drawn. Jeff's little opening mantra, like the film's soundtrack, contains the right amount of whimsy to rope the audience into rooting for him - we're waiting for the beat to pick up, for him to finally break into a run. This is all before it cuts to reveal him sitting on the toilet, and then makes the well worn journey back to the TV and couch, and where his bong lies. Night Shyamalan's Signs, he thinks the movie is speaking directly to his soul, calling him into action, guiding him towards the universe's signals. His opening monologue has plenty of potential. Jason Segel is Jeff, a thirty-something jobless stoner still living with his mother and lazily waiting around for his true calling.
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