Oh, Hi! introduces itself with a brief preamble that suggests it’s going to be a horror pic, then resets the action to “36 Hours Earlier.” We’re immediately whisked to a car containing Iris (Molly Gordon) and her boyfriend Isaac (Logan Lerman) merrily singing along with a pop tune, on their way to a vacation rental—their very first such as a couple—in a country farmhouse.
As far as that goes, this might as well really turn out to be a youth-market horror film. All of them start that same way, with foolishly joyous characters blissfully unaware that they’re going to be slaughtered by the usual malevolent weirdo so many filmmakers can hardly resist using. In the case of Oh, Hi! the filmmaker is Sophie Brooks, a native of London, England now based in Brooklyn, NY.
Brooks’ previous movie, The Boy Downstairs (2017), was an urban romantic sitcom built along standard “oopsy-daisy” lines—so we get the idea that the horror reference in the new film’s intro might just be more of a narrative “misdirection play.” Faking one way but going another. Iris and Isaac’s silly business with the roadside strawberry stand certainly promises light-hearted goofball flirtatiousness rather than full-on shocker, in a harmless wrapper.
The lovers find a collection of leather BDSM gear in a closet at the farmhouse and begin to experiment. Iris gets Isaac securely handcuffed to the bedposts, and suddenly a cloud passes over the would-be romantic interlude. The movie’s mood darkens.
As brought out in her dialogue, Iris has a few built-in personality tics: she can’t drink whiskey, doesn’t like to read books, has an inordinate fondness for Casablanca, etc. Personal taste issues that might seem unremarkable in a more relaxed setting all of a sudden take on sinister real-world meaning when one party is being held captive by another in an isolated house.
With Isaac unable to move, the two vacationers’ ongoing conversation turns to things like relationship defining, arguing for its own sake, an anxious phone call to Iris’ mother and a “how-to-relate” lesson. Iris is in charge, lawyering the situation. She’s in complete control. Days go by with Isaac still tied up.
There’s an unmistakable whiff of Stephen King’s Misery to this story, of course. Isaac makes the mistake of refusing to take Iris’ emotional complaints seriously, and pays a price. But when he raises the issue of false imprisonment the trap just gets tighter. The intervention of Iris’ friend Max (Geraldine Viswanathan) and Max’s friend Kenny (John Reynolds) only leads to more anxious mumblecore. The tiresome, self-involved therapy-happy dialogue session among all four characters becomes its own horror flick. At least until the threat of physical danger improbably dissolves, in the last reel.
But by then, do we care enough about Iris and Isaac to stick around and see what happens? Are any of these characters capable of unfastening themselves from themselves? Gordon, an experienced stage actor unafraid to help take a typical high school coming-of-age story like Olivia Wilde’s 2019 Booksmart to deadpan modern heights through the power of pure magnetism, handles the curious role of Iris almost as if it were an absurdist ritual.
By contrast, all Lerman (The Perks of Being a Wallflower) has to do to establish Isaac is to play the role straight. Isaac is the saddest, most helpless kind of sex object for Iris. She uses him, in the screenplay written by director Brooks with Gordon, as an example of everyday mediocrity. Their individual limitations instantly label these two American consumers as emblematic.
Eric Rohmer would politely excuse himself from associating with any of these babies—they need to grow up. Noah Baumbach would probably fall asleep in the first 30 minutes. Quentin Tarantino wouldn’t leave a single character standing. Greta Gerwig would tear up the scenario—no use sending it back for a rewrite. Don’t take a first date to this one. Keep your distance.
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In theaters
