In 2024, if a new rom-com doesn’t make direct punch-in-the-nose references to a classic rom-com, does said new rom-com even exist? Sweethearts (now streaming on Max) drafts on the everlasting power of When Harry Met Sally, as Kiernan Shipka and Nico Haraga play longtime besties who wonder if there’s more than Just Friends between them, just like Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal do in the 1989 classic. Now let’s see if the movie earns the comparison.
SWEETHEARTS: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT?
The Gist: The progress report on Ben (Haraga) and Jamie’s (Shipka) freshman year at college is dire: They’re self-proclaimed “huge losers.” They never, ever go out and party, thus avoiding the temptation of cheating on their long-distance significant others. Not that those relationships are particularly great right now, mind you: We catch Jamie phoning it in, in the non-literal sense, during phone sex with Simon (Charlie Hall), and Ben can’t set his phone down for an afternoon without Claire (Ava DeMary) smothering him with dozens of texts and calls. Meanwhile, Ben has to establish hard boundaries with his goofy advantage-taking roommate, and Jamie’s roommate thinks she’s “funny.” To which she responds, “I feel like I haven’t said a single funny thing since I came to college. It’s probably because I’m wildly unhappy.” Which, I’m sorry to say, is actually funny. (And she’s smart enough to be aware of it.)
The background: Since eighth grade, Ben and Jamie have been totes inseps. One hundred percent platonic pals. They ended up at the same out-of-state college, and although it’s never clarified, it’s implied that they engineered it. She’s dating a football player who set a record for being the person with the lowest GPA to ever get accepted to Harvard. He’s dating an egomaniac theater girl who’s still in high school and embellishes every other syllable in the national anthem like she’s the love child of Mariah Carey and Aretha Franklin. These doofi have got to go. And Thanksgiving break is when all college freshmen realize that they need to sever some ties from their old lives and get on with their new lives, and get to dumping. You know, the ol’ turkey dump, which I thought was a different phenomenon that traditionally occurred the day after Thanksgiving, but I stand corrected. (I also apologize.)
So Ben and Jamie help each other formulate plans to end things. Not so they have the freedom to smooch each other, mind you. In fact, this never even comes up. It’s there in your head, but is it in theirs? I’m not entirely convinced it is, and the movie isn’t quite what you expect it to be, so be grateful for that. Neither is it at all linear, because Ben and Jamie’s primary missions get derailed by a screenplay that prefers cockeyed comedy diversions over getting to the point. And that’s OK. It’s sorta how life goes, right? Anyway, those side trips involve our protags’ friend Palmer (Caleb Hearon), who’s preparing to come out as gay, and the football coach (Tramell Tillman) and fireman (Joel Kim Booster) who end up being Palmer’s allies, and a childhood friend (a very funny Chloe Troast) tied to one of Jamie’s childhood traumas, and for no real reason other than the fact that she was Marcia Brady on TV, Christine Taylor as Ben’s mom. OK, there is a reason for Marcia Brady as Ben’s mom to be here – she watches When Harry Met Sally on TV after Thanksgiving dinner. Whether Sweethearts wraps up like that all-timer though? Not gonna spoil it.
What Movies Will It Remind You Of?: Sweethearts has the raunchy college-com content of flicks like Neighbors or Pitch Perfect (and Superbad’s influence is everywhere these days, it seems) crossed with that one movie where the lady sits in a public diner and very loudly moans like she’s having an orgasm, whatever that movie was called.
Performance Worth Watching: Shipka is damn terrific at playing a youngish person whose sad eyes suggest an old soul underneath – and who delivers a series of knee-buckler one-liners (see “memorable dialogue” below).
Memorable Dialogue: Who else doesn’t feel like this one hits a little too close to home? Jamie: “I love being tired. It’s basically my whole personality.”
Sex and Skin: Full-frontal dong, a non-nude but somewhat graphic scene of schtupping and face-sitting.
Our Take: Sweethearts’ insistence on referencing When Harry Met Sally is a bit ill-advised, because it inevitably begs unfavorable comparisons. But director/co-writer Jordan Weiss – Dan Brier gets the other screenplay credit – has her reasons, good ones even, that become obvious once the end credits roll. The whatever-ever-after she concocts (no spoilers!) for the protagonists of this light-to-mediumweight comedy ultimately reflects the wisdom of acknowledging the past while moving on from it, which is a pretentious way of saying the film doesn’t always validate our assumptions. Weiss plays her strongest card when it matters most.
Otherwise, the movie meets median expectations for charm, laughs and grossout moments: Too much of the first thing might make it cloying; too much of the last thing would push it into American Pie pief—ery territory. (As for too much of the middle thing? No such thing.) So it maneuvers past some touching and truthful exchanges and an unfortunate urinary incident and lingers near tonal nowheresville, but that opens the door for Shipka, Hiraga and a strong supporting cast to put some nicely punchy dialogue to use and lift overly familiar raunch-com situations out of mediocrity.
As previously implied, I hereby confirm that the screenplay lacks focus, meandering from Jamie and Ben’s conundrums to accommodate the Palmer subplot, which eats up more screentime than it should – or doesn’t eat up enough. Which is to say Sweethearts is a two-and-three-quarter-headed beast that smacks a little of LGBTQ tokenism. Which isn’t to say the plot deviations aren’t funny; they’re just amusing (and occasionally sweet) enough to inspire us to ignore how the movie keeps diverting us from the primary plot. Weiss seemingly engineers the story so well-timed silliness punctures any significant tension, but that doesn’t render the film meaningless. It’s remarkably easy to watch, and you’ll find yourself in these characters’ corners, hoping for the best for them.
Our Call: It’s hard to dislike Shipka and Hiraga’s efforts here. And Sweethearts is at the very least consistently funny enough to warrant consuming 97 minutes of your life. STREAM IT.
John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan.
