(Shoulda) Seen at SXSW: The Lovebirds is a Fun and Weclome Entry to the Action Rom-Com Genre

What To Watch in Quarantine? The Lovebirds is a Fun and Weclome Entry to the Action Rom-Com Genre

Sometimes, not getting what you want can be a wonderful stroke of luck.

I was really looking forward to experiencing the world premiere of Issa Rae and Kumail Nanjiani’s The Lovebirds at the Paramount Theater during Austin’s SXSW Film Festival, and then sharing the experience with friends in a theater less than a month later on the film’s original release date of April 3rd. Neither of those options came to pass. Instead, the action-comedy moved away from a Paramount Pictures-enabled theatrical release and landed on Netflix this past week, but to immediate high viewing numbers and a firm position in the streaming platform’s Top 10 in the US.

It’s easy to see why: Nanjiani and Rae each proved eminently likeable in the roles that brought them to stardom (he from HBO’s Silicon Valley, she from the same network’s Insecure). And in this pairing, their Jibran and Leilani are a likeable couple to watch from their first moments of romance to their loudest and most hurtful, potentially relationship-ending fights. It’s stark to see those moments juxtaposed against one another so quickly, and only a few minutes into the film. While the story that lies ahead of us has wildly varying levels of believability, the fight that we see first matters because it and its stakes do feel real.

You may be familiar with the premise of the film: New Orleans couple en route to a party mid-breakup gets wrapped up in a hit-and-run/murder plot. The beats that follow heighten in their silliness (with the help of Anna Camp, Kyle Bornheimer, and too-short appearances by Catherine Cohen and Barry Rothbart), and the name of the game ultimately becomes to get to the next morning unscathed and unarrested. It has elements that bring to mind 2018’s ensemble comedy Game Night, and skews closely at times to 2010’s Steve Carell/Tina Fey vehicle Date Night.

But Rae and Nanjiani ground the material they’re given in a way those movies refused to do, in an endearing yet clear-eyed sweetness – a scene where they talk about the very real challenges of people of color going to the police is both incredibly funny and a welcome acknowledgment of their fear. Much of the film’s runtime alternates between revealing deeper cracks in their relationship, and offering glimmers of the glue that could pull them back together. As the film headed into its final third, I said aloud (to no one, I watched by myself) “Man, I hope these good looking people get through this.” I won’t share whether they do or don’t, but I will share that in a lot of ways that resolution felt almost secondary to me. What the interesting part about the film is, is how the bowing and closing of the cracks allows them to be useful to one another in a moment that undoubtedly tests them the most.

The film is certainly not without its flaws; the third act gets bogged down in exposition and the backstory of the crime don’t seem to match the drastic actions that brought them into the mess to begin with. It’s oddly paced at times, which makes sense when you consider that most of director Michael Showalter (Wet Hot American Summer, Search Party, and prior Nanjiani vehicle The Big Sick)’s repertoire skews far away from the action genre.

Yet by the end, you’ve watched a romantic comedy that feels – even in light of the outrageous circumstances – familiar, like you’ve seen this sort of relationship in real life but rarely onscreen. And I’m actually glad that it landed on Netflix; after seeing films with leads of color stumble at the box office because theatrical marketing efforts simply don’t know what to do with them, I feel confident that more people will watch and enjoy this fun departure from our hellscape of the current moment in this venue than would have if it was released “as normal.” So while The Lovebirds and I didn’t get quite what we first expected, I’m ultimately pleased with what we got.

The following two tabs change content below.

Amma Marfo

Amma Marfo is a writer, speaker, and podcaster based in Boston, MA. Her writing has appeared in Femsplain, The Good Men Project, Pacific Standard, and Talking Points Memo. Chances are good that as you're reading this, she's somewhere laughing.
Amma Marfo
Amma Marfo
Amma Marfo is a writer, speaker, and podcaster based in Boston, MA. Her writing has appeared in Femsplain, The Good Men Project, Pacific Standard, and Talking Points Memo. Chances are good that as you're reading this, she's somewhere laughing.