I haven’t seen much of Amy Schumer’s comedic material, but her turn in Trainwreck was memorable enough for me to read this enjoyable autobiographical collection of essays and recollections, told with frankness, humour and quite a bit of raunch and cussing. There’s always a measure of scepticism when one reads a memoir by a celebrity – particularly a performer – in how much of it is a carefully edited performance and how much is genuine. As far as my impressions went, Schumer at least doesn’t come off as a person who pretends to be someone they’re not.
Saw Trainwreck yesterday. It’s been forever since I watched a comedy at the cinema – I think my last one was the first Hangover movie – or a chick flick for that matter which wasn’t a costume drama. This one got good reviews and I’ve been hearing all sorts of raves about Amy Schumer in the last few months on the US-based entertainment sites, so I looked forward to it quite a bit. I walked out with some mixed feelings: while now I’m also happy to jump on the Amy Schumer bandwagon, the movie itself wasn’t as good as its leading lady. I’d go as far as to say it was pretty damn ordinary.