On the Count of Three (2022)

On the Count of Three is one of those rare dark comedies that earns its laughs the hard way—by staring straight at despair and still finding a pulse of humanity underneath. Jerrod Carmichael’s directorial debut feels confident and unshowy, letting the story’s messy emotions play out with a compassion that never turns suicide into a gimmick, while Christopher Abbott brings a raw, unpredictable energy that makes every quiet moment feel loaded. The vibe is tense but oddly buoyant, like a long day that keeps swerving between gallows humor and real tenderness, with Tiffany Haddish adding a grounded warmth that keeps the film from floating off into cynicism. It’s not an easy watch and it’s definitely not for anyone who wants their comedy light or their drama comforting—but if you can handle the premise, it’s funny, bruising, and unexpectedly life-affirming.

On the Count of Three is clearly trying to use dark comedy as a pressure valve for depression, trauma, and male friendship, and when it hits, it’s raw, funny in an uncomfortable way, and occasionally moving. The problem is it can feel tonally wobbly—one minute it wants to be a bleak hangout comedy, the next it’s going for gut-punch drama—and the story structure can come off a bit messy rather than purposefully chaotic. It’s also heavy on suicidal ideation, gun violence, and abrasive language, so if you’re hoping for a sensitive, carefully calibrated take on the subject, this may feel too blunt and uneven. If you can handle the intensity and you’re mainly here for Jerrod Carmichael and Christopher Abbott’s chemistry, there’s something worthwhile; if you need emotional steadiness and a cleaner narrative, you’ll likely leave frustrated.