There is initially something strategically encouraging about the existence and positioning of Sony's glossy romantic comedy “Anyone But You”. Unlike the overwhelming mass of recent films in this genre (supposedly resurrected, for those paying attention, but not so much), it's not aiming for the streaming junkyard, but rather a beefy theatrical release. Teased with half-dressed set pictures of the main duo – Euphoria's tearful Sydney Sweeney and Top Gun: Maverick's tanned Glen Powell – did she or didn't she rumors have seemingly been circulating for almost a year. like the most confident and expensive romantic comedy in a long time.
An initial teaser might have proved a bit confusing – too much sex, not enough titillation – and the subsequent trailer starring Olivia Rodrigo might have been a bit broad – cheesy enough to be quickly and brutally parodied – but surely there must be something there be, Is there anything that explains why a studio would ambitiously release a film in a commercially questionable genre with two untested upstarts at the helm? Surely?
Perhaps it's the result of our collective obsession with nostalgia, more evident in the many reboots or legacy sequels hitting screens big and small, but also more broadly: a genre that's risen from the dead and all styled as if it were from the past era it comes from (this season's wonderfully mid-2000s-coded slasher “Thanksgiving” is a recent example). “Anyone But You” may be set in the present day, but it looks and feels like it was set two decades ago, and considering how dull the presentation of most romantic comedies are these days, you can with this one Level of high-end simplicity has little joy. But beyond the visual exercise, there's sadly nothing else to explain why this was deemed worth a try, as the gloss ultimately doesn't detract from everything else we've come to expect from the genre.
The film is inspired by “Much Ado About Nothing” and at the same time slowed down. He lets Sweeney's insecure law student Bea spend a night with Powell's confident financial brother Ben (that's all there is to characterization!) and, for reasons too tenuous to ever believe, he leads them to become sworn enemies. Months later they meet again and discover that Bea's sister and Ben's childhood friend are together. The two travel to Australia for the wedding and chat casually (the film is incredibly unfunny throughout). For reasons even more subtle than before, they decide that pretending to be a couple is a clever plan, and, in theory, hilarity ensues.
Like the film itself, the main couple's appeal lies in aesthetics, but in the past, the lead roles in romantic comedies have tended to be class clown and girl-next-door rather than jock and prom queen. Genre greats like Meg Ryan, Billy Crystal, Hugh Grant, Tom Hanks and Sandra Bullock were attractive, but they were rarely brashly sexy and never as perpetually naked as these two, whose appeal was based on likeability rather than fuckability. Sweeney and Powell, who are shiny and toned in pre-release stills and on the poster itself, were not chosen based on compatibility. There are failed attempts – Sweeney eating a grilled cheese when it's too hot (!), Powell listening to Natasha Bedingfield to calm his nerves (!) – and that's not a problem in itself – this genre isn't popular because of its bleakness Reality loved – but there must be something deeper, something that makes us care about the will or otherwise of the formula.
Director Will Gluck, who also brought Justin Timberlake and Mila Kunis together to disastrous effect in the unsympathetic 2011 film “Friends With Benefits,” can’t turn his leads into anything more than swimwear models. Making a romantic comedy around them is like watching a child force two dolls to kiss. An uncomfortable Sweeney, so notable in “Reality” earlier this year, has a strange flatness here that hampers what should be breezy material, and while Powell is more competent, he never rises above soapy competence, a tense, square jaw that can be relied upon for dramatic effect. The two never convincingly hate each other or even mildly dislike each other, there's no bite, it's more like watching a happy couple playfully go at each other in front of an audience, and we're never given enough reasons why wouldn't do it together from the start. Some of the most interesting romantic comedies need characters full of, if you think about it, crazy characters to work their magic – “Only You,” “Addicted to Love,” “You've Got Mail,” “My Best Friend's Wedding.” ” and “While You Were Sleeping.” – but these two remain boringly normal, more likely to refer to the other as “that weirdo” on Instagram than do anything truly strange.
The Shakespeare of It All may also be a nostalgic throwback to films like Clueless, Get Over It and 10 Things I Hate About You, but it proves to be one of many stumbling blocks for author Ilana Wolpert, who takes an age-old farce in a distracting way forces, annoyingly convoluted, slapstick-heavy corners, quotes that are clumsily inserted with a crowbar as a reminder. Vague meta attempts to comment on how complicated it is getting isn't enough to solve the problem, but rather serves as an admission that maybe this wasn't a good idea in the first place.