"Pallbearer" is another youth-generation comic potboiler: a series of farcical episodes featuring five friends (including Gwyneth Paltrow and Michael Rapaport), two nutty adults (Carol Kane and Barbara Hershey) and innumerable complications. As the befuddled, entrapped Tom, David Schwimmer takes us through the functional shenanigans with that hangdog shtick. A year out of college, Tom is unemployed and still living with his overprotective mother in Brooklyn and is unrequitedly in love with Julie DeMarco.

His life takes a turn for the bizarre when he gets a phone call from a "Mrs. Abernathy," who informs him that her son Bill has committed suicide. Tom, too ashamed to admit he doesn't remember Bill, is recruited as to be a pallbearer and the one to deliver his eulogy. -- Rita Kempley

By Desson Howe
Washington Post Staff Writer
May 03, 1996

In "The Pallbearer," panic crosses Tom Thompson's face regularly, like a slow-changing traffic light. Life for this 25-year-old momma's boy (played engagingly by David Schwimmer) is one oppressive problem after another. But he endures each hassle with a powerless shrug and a wavery, near-deadpan voice that comes up to speed like a Victrola. He seems arrested emotionally, a step too slow about everything. He's an overgrown child in a slacker's body.

Schwimmer's winning persona, which has endeared him to so many in the TV series "Friends," works like a charm in his movie debut. "Pallbearer," written by Jason Katims and Matt Reeves, is another youth-generation comic potboiler: a series of farcical episodes featuring five friends (including Gwyneth Paltrow and Michael Rapaport), two nutty adults (Carol Kane and Barbara Hershey) and innumerable complications. As the befuddled, entrapped Tom, Schwimmer takes us through the functional shenanigans with that hangdog shtick.

A year out of college, Tom is unemployed and still living with his overprotective mother (Kane) in Brooklyn. He's also unrequitedly in love with Julie DeMarco (Paltrow), who he once shared a music stand with in high school.

His life takes a turn for the bizarre when he gets a phone call from a "Mrs. Abernathy" (an amusingly nutso Hershey), who informs him that her son Bill has committed suicide. Tom, too ashamed to admit he doesn't remember Bill, expresses appropriate concern. But for his pains, he's recruited as the mysterious Bill's pallbearer and the one to deliver his eulogy.

In a panic, Tom enlists help from his old friends (including Toni Collette of "Muriel's Wedding" fame). Apparently, Bill went briefly to their high school and was a member of the chess club, but all records of him remain fuzzy. There's even a blank where his photograph ought to be in Tom's high school yearbook.

Tom's problems are further complicated by the reappearance of Julie, who has returned after a long absence. While trying to honor his funereal commitments, Tom is obsessed with getting close to Julie -- who barely remembers him from school.

Unfortunately, Tom's romantic frustrations meet Mrs. Abernathy's loneliness, which leads to a physical relationship he almost immediately regrets. The entanglement becomes an even stickier problem when Tom finally does make headway with Julie.

If the movie trudges the triangular romantic path wearily at times -- as Tom sorts out his double-girl problem -- Schwimmer's antics make the journey amusing. His stumbling eulogy for Bill is his piece de resistance, as he faces a congregation full of strangers to pay tribute to someone he doesn't even remember.

"Who is Bill Abernathy?" he begins haltingly. "That is not an easy question to answer. I could spend countless hours recounting my personal experiences with Bill: The chess club . . . ." At this, his friends, who have gate-crashed the funeral for moral support, suppress giggles. Tom rallies to continue.

"Instead, I ask, who is the real Bill Abernathy? What is the single, elusive, interesting, inner quality that makes -- made -- Bill . . . Bill? Well folks, I don't have that answer. Who really does?"

He returns to his seat to a stunned, speechless reception, but in the movie theater, this speech is likely to bring the house down.

Contains sexual situations and minor profanity.

By Rita Kempley
Washington Post Staff Writer
May 03, 1996

"The Pallbearer," a leaden knockoff of "The Graduate," marks the mildly anticipated, hugely tragic big-screen debut of David Schwimmer. "Friends" fans will want to send flowers.

This banal seriocomedy -- also a first film for director Matt Reeves -- seems tailor-made for the sitcomer, who plays a slight variant of the nervous dweeb he plays on TV. Like friend Ross, Tom Thompson is a professional in his middle twenties with an ironclad crush on a woman he's known since high school.

Unlike friend Ross, Tom is unemployed, unlikable and unable to keep his mouth shut (close-ups simulate a tour of Mammoth Cave). An out-of-work architect who still lives at home with Mother (Carol Kane), Tom is also a bit slower than the average college graduate. One wonders if Schwimmer mistakenly modeled his performance on Dustin Hoffman's in "Rain Man." Tom is lying on his bunk bed, sipping Bosco and feeling sorry for himself, when he gets a call from a Ruth Abernathy (Barbara Hershey, very bottle-blond). He doesn't remember her, but Ruth claims to be the mother of his dear and suddenly dead friend, Bill. Tom doesn't remember Bill, either, but he agrees to serve as a pallbearer and to deliver his eulogy.

Though his remarks are idiotic and he tries to pick up his winsome former classmate Julie (Gwyneth Paltrow) while still schlepping the coffin, Ruth takes a shine to him, and before you can say, "Here's to you, Mrs. Abernathy," he's making love to her in Bill's twin bed. Wouldn't you know it -- now Julie starts coming around.

Written by the director and Jason Katims, "The Pallbearer" ultimately turns on an improbable case of mistaken identity: Though allegedly blessed with an excellent memory, Tom Thompson has completely forgotten about the other Tom Thompson he went to school with. Luckily, his friends (Michael Vartan, Michael Rapaport) remind him. That's the great thing about friends. They're always there for you.