An air of predictability settles over Josh Boone’s impossibly maudlin Regretting You in its very first scene. Adapted by Susan McMartin from the Colleen Hoover novel of the same name, the film opens at a beach party in 2007, where demure 18-year-olds Morgan (Allison Williams) and Jonah (Dave Franco) leisurely watch as their respective partners, Chris (Scott Eastwood) and Morgan’s sister Jenna (Willa Fitzgerald), join a game of beer pong, at which point Jonah comments, “How did we both end up with our complete opposites?”
Chris and Jenna’s ensuing flirtatious banter makes plain that the two of them were really perfect for one another. At least that’s abundantly clear to the audience, which makes the lengths to which this maudlin film goes to in order to also make that fact clear to the characters, after jumping forward 17 years with both mismatched couples still together, a kind of torture.
Of course, mere predictability isn’t the death knell for this type of film, but Regretting You’s characters are so thinly sketched and psychologically inconsistent that it’s near impossible to buy into the high stakes that the story sets up. Boone’s film doesn’t lack for emotionally traumatic events—a shocking affair, a deadly car crash, and even a cancer diagnosis—but there’s hardly a moment here that feels remotely lived in and grounded.
The decision to have Williams and Franco, both in their late 30s when the film was shot, play their characters as teens may be the most egregious example of Regretting You’s indifference to verisimilitude. But it also comes through in everything from the props and sets, which are as pristine and artificial as those in a model home, or those you’d see in a Hallmark original.
The film’s lone bright spot is Makenna Grace, who, as Morgan’s 16-year-old daughter Clara, makes everything from the girl’s vulnerability to her spunky naïveté feel recognizably real. But for as promising as the glimpses into her contentious relationship with her mom may be, Clara’s will-they-won’t-they dynamic with the troubled Miller (Mason Thames) takes up more of the film’s attention. Ultimately, everything ends up exactly how you’d expect, with the filmmakers inability to imbue their characters, or the world they inhabit, with any depth or authenticity making it easy for us to regret the time we’ve wasted watching the film in the first place.
Since 2001, we've brought you uncompromising, candid takes on the world of film, music, television, video games, theater, and more. Independently owned and operated publications like Slant have been hit hard in recent years, but we’re committed to keeping our content free and accessible—meaning no paywalls or fees.
If you like what we do, please consider subscribing to our Patreon or making a donation.
