Mucking with Movies: ‘It Ends With Us’

Last year, I fawned over “Thanksgiving”; it was a genre flick that shepherds in grander ideas while still delivering quality for those who came to the theater looking for the cliches. “It Ends With Us” is this year’s “Thanksgiving.” The trio of Blake Lively, Justin Baldoni, and Brandon Skienar provide undeniable chemistry that radiates off the screen. If the actors are into it and can feed off one another in an endearing way, a romantic comedy will always find its legs, no matter how corny the writing gets. It’s been a while, and I had forgotten how much fun a great rom-com can be.

The most emotional part for me was a personal issue. Lively looks just like an ex-situationship I had once upon a time. She was unbelievably gorgeous and incredibly perceptive and much cooler than I was. Eventually, I fumbled it — life isn’t fair. 

Anyway …

“It Ends With Us” does an excellent job of pacing itself. While there is some heavy-handed exposition awkwardly dumped into the introductory conversation between Lively’s Lily Bloom and Baldoni’s Ryle Kincaid, it takes its time to get to its main thesis. At one point, I wrote in my notes that the movie lacked texture, but it is my expectation that has gotten skewed. I’m so used to films showing us their cards early on in the story, then playing them one at a time over the next couple of hours.

Baldoni, who pulls double duty as the director, keeps his plans well hidden. There’s a lot to get through, too, as it is a story depicting both the complications of pubescent and adolescent love: how they both can rise and fall, the myopic giddiness, and the fight to make sure the beginnings won’t end up being the best part. Love does not change much, the parallels stay the same no matter how old you get — the problem is that people change. External factors emerge stopping you from what you want the most: to find that person who keeps you from sleeping alone and asks you how your day was at the end of it and cares about the answer. 

What Baldoni understands is that the most important thing to do is to first draw the audience in, to make us blush at the lovely-dovey romance unfolding, before revealing what he really wants to address. 

Dealing with a topic as heavy as domestic violence in a movie where people are there to satiate their desire for a happy ending is a herculean task. Baldoni can hide the obvious in plain sight. You have no hints at what is about to take place; when it first happens, you assume that it is an accident. The second time it goes down, suspicion arises, but still, you can fool yourself. You want Ryle and Lily to succeed, so you don’t want to admit the truth that is right in front of your eyes. Lily does not want to admit it either, so down the rabbit hole we go with her.

It is the truest depiction I have seen of the issue. The truth is that these things never go down in dramatic reveals in front of crowds. It is done at home, done behind closed doors from the people you trust the most who you believe would never do anything to hurt you. 

Moreover, I have never seen a film trick its audience so thoroughly throughout its first two acts. Lured into a false sense of security, we think we are going to laugh a little and cry a little, and that will be that. But it keeps adding layer after layer after layer. Gives blows to the heart again and again. Baldoni adds to his performance, able to manipulate his voice between sweet innocence and malice when you least expect it. It is so light for so long that you don’t believe it could ever get so dark. 

We are cursed to a lifetime of chasing after the ghosts of our romantic past:hwat might have been, what could have been, what should have been. When I lose another love, I know it is another lost chance at having lifelong love, the sort of love that you can only get when you are young and dumb. As time goes on, the chances of us getting stranded with somebody not worth our time increases.

“It Ends With Us” does an extraordinary job exploring that, becoming the best romantic comedy since “Crazy Stupid Love” over a decade ago. I might even go see it twice.

Critic Score: 8.8/10

Jack Simon is a mogul coach and writer/director who enjoys eating food he can’t afford, traveling to places out of his budget, and creating art about skiing, eating, and traveling while broke. Check out his website jacksimonmakes.com to see his Jack’s Jitney travelogue series. You can email him at jackdocsimon@gmail.com for inquiries of any type.