Suspend disbelief? Not this time

 Oh, Hi!, a movie that flirts with horror tropes while dealing with the consequences of jumping too quickly into a relationship, doesn't take long to squander its credibility. Meet Iris (Molly Gordon) and Isaac (Logan Lerman), a couple we encounter while they’re en route to a romantic rural getaway. Isaac picked a rental house that seems ideal and, for the most part, Iris and Isaac appear to be well-matched. After a breezy start, the movie could have proceeded as a romantic comedy or it could have added ingredients to upset love's apple cart. Regrettably, Oh, Hi! opts for disruption. After experimenting with S&M goodies the couple finds in one of the house's closets, Isaac stupidly tells Iris that he's not interested in an exclusive relationship. Why stupid? He's still handcuffed to the bed.  Iris hopes that, as the weekend progresses, the imprisoned Isaac will recognize that he's supposed to be with her. Director Sophie Brooks can't seem to decide whether to play for chills or laughs. We get little of either as we watch the increasingly annoying Iris abuse Isaac. Brooks, who also wrote the screenplay, contrives to have another couple (John Reynolds and Geraldine Viswanathan) arrive to help Iris resolve a disturbing problem: What if she releases Isaac and he heads straight for the nearest police station? The story ultimately tries to say something meaningful about the need for honesty in relationships, but as soon as Isaac was chained to the bed, I was shackled to a story that had lost most of its early appeal by over-extending its central conceit and getting too little in return.*

*Note: In an earlier version of this review I had gotten the name of Molly Gordon's character wrong. Thanks to the reader who pointed it out.

A disappointing 'Drive-Away Dolls'

 

   I'm not sure how to classify Drive-Away Dolls, a solo directing effort by Ethan Coen, half of the great Coen Brothers team. The brothers are now working separately. Coen wrote the screenplay with his wife Tricia Cooke.

   Drive-Away Dolls almost feels like a Coen Brothers movie, maybe the rough draft for one. Remember, I said almost. Intermittently amusing in a deadpan way, Coen's episodic comedy drifts toward disappointment.

  Coen has described Drive-Away Dolls as a "queer" movie, a caper tale centered on two unabashedly gay women, the flamboyant Jamie (Margaret Qualley) and the more reserved Marian (Geraldine Viswanathan). 

  When the movie opens in 1999, Jamie has just dumped her girlfriend, a uniformed cop played by Beanie Feldstein. Jamie departs the apartment they shared as Feldstein's character sobs hysterically and pries a dildo (a gimmicky gift from Jamie) off one of the walls. 

  The story then leaves Pennsylvania, taking to the road as Jamie and Marian head for Tallahassee in a drive-away vehicle they obtain from a low-rent business run by Curlie (Bill Camp).  

   The dour Curlie insists on not being called “Curlie” even though his name is embroidered on his shirt. First names are too familiar for a first meeting, Curlie insists.

  That should give you an idea about the humor.

  Unbeknownst to Jamie and Marian, a suitcase has been placed in the trunk of the Dodge Aires they're driving. A suave gangster (Colman Domingo) wants the suitcase back. He dispatches two goons  (C.J. Wilson and Joey Slotnick) to retrieve the goods.

  What's in the suitcase? The contents of the suitcase constitute one of the movie's surprises, a joke that you'll have to discover for yourself.

  Qualley dominates as a woman who dedicates herself to freeing the spirit of the more sensible Marian, encouraging her to approach sex with libidinous abandon.

  For the most part, sex is presented with raunchy comic flare as the movie looks to find its footing. A digressive story works its way through stops at lesbian bars, a make-out session with a girls' soccer team, and an eventual face-off with the women's inept pursuers. 

   Matt Damon shows up toward the end as a senator with an interest in acquiring the suitcase.

   Coen's willingness to indulge in the ridiculous offers a degree of fun as he goofs on B-movie tropes, but, in sum, Drive-Away Dolls comes off as a ragged, 84-minute helping of comic overreach.

     The main characters are up-front about their lesbianism or “queerness,” if that’s more appropriate. But like it-or-not assertions of sexuality aren’t enough to keep much of the rest of the movie from feeling stale.

    

A gallery for those who've lost in love

    If you don't mind a movie that contains more contrivance than heartbreak, The Broken Hearts Gallery might be just your cup of sugar. I should say that the sugar in this 20something, New York-based rom-com is laced with the kind of humor that might be produced by characters who've spent far too much time on Twitter, a heady mixture of snark. cleverness and complaint.
     Almost never at a loss for something to say, the characters in Broken Hearts take a predictable journey in which friendship eventually turns to love, a development that could surprise only  the two characters in question.
      Lucy (Geraldine Viswanathan) has a strange habit. She keeps something from each of  her failed relationships, turning her bedroom into a kind of memorial to lost love.
     Lucy lives with two roommates: Phillipa Soo's Nadine and Molly Gordon's Amanda. The roommates serve as a kind of Greek chorus, presuming you view a Greek chorus as a device for conveying an endless stream of wisecracks, some funny, some not.

     The main story focuses on Lucy. After being dumped by Max (Utkarsh Ambudkar), Lucy meets Nick (Dacre Montgomery). Mistakenly taking Nick for an Uber driver, she climbs into his Prius and ... well ... the rest is pretty much preordained.
      As befits a contemporary young person in a romcom, Lucy is going through a bad patch.  Not only has she been dumped, but she just lost her job at a supposedly prestigious art gallery run by the acerbic Eva Woolf (Bernadette Peters). 
     As it turns out, Nick has a life of his own dream. He's trying to convert an abandoned YMCA into a boutique hotel called The Chloe. Lucy decides that a Broken Hearts Gallery would make a catchy addition to The Chloe. 

     She'll collect and display the mementos of other people's heartbreaks -- along with a word or two about their stories. Predictably, the idea goes viral.
      Really? Even Lucy's enthusiasm wasn't enough to convince me that anything in her gallery might be worth looking at and the stories that accompany all these breakups aren't especially interesting, either.

      As for the hotel ... does Manhattan really need another one?
      I don't need to say much more. Writer/director Natalie Krinsky (Gossip Girl), concocts a smooth glide across the movie's surfaces with Lucy taking over interior decorating chores at The Chloe.
      Charged with carrying the movie, Viswanathan boasts a winning smile, oodles of verve and enough of whatever passes for intelligence in this kind of film to keep the whole business afloat.
      But in this romcom, the romance proves as corny as it is predictable and the comedy clings to verbal banter rather than from anything having do with keen observation.

      Despite its title, Broken Hearts is selling undisguised optimism.  There's someone for everyone. Money problems readily are solved. Things eventually work out. 

     And all before anyone in the movie turns 30.