(2 stars)
It’s a great moment. Only, the rest of the movie hits almost all the wrong chords. The script, co-written by Showalter and Jennifer Westfeldt from Robinne Lee’s novel of the same name, plays like some trifler read a tip that rom-com lovers like chocolates and set about force-feeding bonbons down the audience’s throat. As Solène enthralls August Moon’s Hayes Campbell (Nicholas Galitzine) by the mere coincidence of mistaking his private trailer for the public restroom (and being the first non-fan he’s met in a decade), what you really feel is the filmmaker’s condescension. For something this featherweight, that’s the kiss of death.
The fantasy isn’t that the heartthrob is willing to whisk Solène off on an impulsive European adventure (which he is). It’s that a guy who has the world screaming at his feet would just love to help Solène clean out her fridge — and doesn’t get mad that she kicks him out after their first smooch. (He leaves his designer watch behind like Cinderella’s slipper.) Solène resists so long that she becomes a drag, so long that his pursuit strains credibility, so long that what we thought was an escapist popcorn flick turns into a punishing drama where our heroine barely seems to be having any fun. The turn-on is power and control, not release.
The movie gets its thrills watching the pop star swoon “yes, yes, yes” and the mom tut “no, no, no.” There’s no growth or change, no lessons to learn, no sense of two humans grappling with genuine emotions. The dialogue is just vague conversations about age gaps and trust issues that sound dramatic but are the kind of thing mismatched couples on reality dating shows natter on about while TV producers try to fill airtime. Hayes is so charming that, for a second, I hoped the complication might be that he’s a shallow, playful people pleaser. (“I love Glendale!” he cheers about a trip to the Los Angeles suburbs.) But no, he’s just Prince Charming.
There are glimpses of what could have been interesting points of connection. Both Solène, who had been a young mom, and Hayes, who signed his life-altering contract at 14, feel as though they missed out on their freewheeling youth. And Hayes is insecure that he’s not taken seriously as an artist. He sees a future where he’s merely a nostalgic joke. When Solène, the high-class art expert, assures Hayes that he’s actually quite good on guitar, there’s a hint that this could be the appeal. Tabloids scream that he has mommy issues. Really, he’s got credibility issues.
The cast does its best with the material, especially supporting player Perry Mattfeld, who makes a meal out of her small role as the mistress who broke up Solène and David’s marriage. Galitzine’s string of sexually charged performances in “Red, White & Royal Blue,” “Bottoms” and “Mary & George” has proved he can ignite chemistry with the entire Kinsey scale. Better still, he carries himself with a humor that’s evident from his character’s introduction. “Hayes Campbell,” he bows with a flourish of self-mockery, voice rising nervously as he says, “I’m with the band?” Galitzine’s stage moves are impressive. The choreographer Dani Vitale nails boy band tics like the preen, the hair-swoosh and the one-legged hop. Even more surprisingly, he does his own singing. (He’s not bad!)
As for Hathaway, she’s a master at layering her characters with intelligence, ego and vulnerability — even this character, in the rare moments when she can. Toward the climax, there’s a beat where the camera just watches her face as Solène toggles through expressions: a teeny smile, a sigh, a laugh. If only the film had stopped right then, as the novel wisely did. Things would at least have ended on a powerful note.
R. Available May 2 on Prime Video. Contains language and sexual content. 115 minutes.
