You deserve a better movie than Marry Me because life’s too short for nothingburgers

(from left) Charlie Gilbert (Owen Wilson), Kat Valdez (Jennifer Lopez) and Melissa (Michelle Buteau) in Marry Me, directed by Kat Coiro. // Photo by Getty Images

Before I start this review, I want you to know that I watched Marry Me as God intended: on the couch, with a glass of wine, under a fuzzy blanket with my cats on my lap. My reasoning, I thought, was that if I had any chance of enjoying this movie, it would be in this most comfortable and girls night-y of settings. After all, it’s how I watched all of Bridgerton. If a Netflix series could be that satisfying, surely a studio film starring Jennifer Lopez and Owen Wilson could provide a similar result.

Reader, it gives me no pleasure to inform you that despite the wine, the cats, and the warm blanket: Marry Me sucks.

The rom-com makes very little of a potentially fun premise, avoiding any kind of character development beyond vague outlines. What scant character or story details there are come from exposition-heavy dialogue that tells rather than shows. It leaves audiences with very little else to look at, save for a fun staged sequence involving backup dancers dressed as sexy nuns.

(from left) Charlie Gilbert’s dog Tank (Romeo), Charlie Gilbert (Owen Wilson), Kat Valdez (Jennifer Lopez), and Lou (Chloe Coleman) in Marry Me, directed by Kat Coiro. // Photo by Getty Images

Lopez stars as Kat Valdez, a pop superstar who’s planning to marry her fiance, fellow mega-celeb Bastian (Maluma) during a massive double-header concert in New York. The pair have even crafted a song for the occasion (the “Marry Me” of the title) that’s number one on every conceivable chart.

Seconds before they exchange vows, Kat learns Bastian has been cheating on her with her assistant, and calls the whole thing off on the spot.

Rather than go through with the nuptials, Kat picks out a normal dude from the crowd, Charlie (Owen Wilson), a divorced math teacher who’s at the concert with his daughter Lou (Chloe Coleman), and co-worker Parker (Sarah Silverman), and marries him.

Technically their vows aren’t binding (yet), but rather than dismiss it as a publicity stunt, Kat decides to give their impromptu relationship a shot.

There is a lot of promise in this setup—it’s a similar one to 1999’s great, oft-quoted Notting Hill, for example, with similar questions about the balance of fame and fulfilling relationships. But where Notting Hill had a rich cast of supporting characters that informed what the characters’ lives were like outside of their romance, Marry Me has hardly anything.

Here’s an example: some tension is introduced early on when it’s mentioned Charlie’s ex-wife is seeing a new guy, and that he’s much more fun than the buttoned-up Charlie. We never meet this man. The only time we see Charlie’s ex-wife is a wordless shot where she picks up their daughter from school to remind us that she does, in fact, exist. It would take very little work to make Charlie a fully-fledged character. Instead, we know almost nothing about him, which makes it hard to root for him when it matters.

Kat’s side of the equation is a little more fun, with a stressed-out but sweet British manager (John Bradley) and a sassy social media guru (Michelle Buteau) who mostly follows her around doing Instagram Live videos. Kat lives her life stunningly online for a celebrity, even by Kardashian standards.

There’s kind of a lesson embedded here about the importance of being present in the moment, but it never really goes anywhere, and the film squanders another possibility for character growth.

Romantic comedies do not have to be art house films.

They are, by definition, light and frothy and not supposed to hold up to much scrutiny. They do, however, require you to like the characters, and that in turn requires that there be actual characters for you to like.

Considering its nearly two-hour runtime, there’s amazingly little substance to Marry Me, to the point where, when the credits roll, you might find yourself wondering where that time went.

Life is too short for movies like this. You, your wine, your blanket, and your cats deserve something better.