Me and Him (1988)

Me and Him is the kind of high-concept comedy that shouldn’t work on paper, yet somehow turns its outrageous premise into a surprisingly sharp, human-sized tale about desire, self-control, and the humiliations of everyday adulthood. Doris Dörrie keeps the tone buoyant and mischievous rather than crude, letting the absurdity play out with a straight-faced New York rhythm while Griffin Dunne sells every awkward escalation with real comic grace. It’s a film that laughs at the ways we sabotage ourselves, then gently nudges you to admit you’ve had your own private arguments with impulse—just maybe not out loud. If you’re allergic to sex-forward farce or you need your comedy subtle, it may not be your speed, but if you’re game for something boldly odd and consistently funny, this one’s a delightfully unbuttoned time capsule.

Me and Him is clearly aiming for a cheeky, high-concept sex comedy about the war between civilized adulthood and unruly impulse, and it commits to that premise with zero embarrassment. The catch is that the joke is basically the premise, stretched across the runtime, so if you don’t find talking-body-part humor funny right away, it can start to feel repetitive and a bit shrill rather than clever. It also leans into awkward public humiliation and “everyone thinks he’s crazy” misunderstandings, which can be more exhausting than hilarious depending on your tolerance for cringe. On the plus side, the cast brings energy and professionalism, and if you like broad, slightly raunchy late-’80s comedy that’s more silly than sexy, you may have a decent time.