Heart Eyes

The difference between "deconstruction" and "subversion" is subtle, but important.

Subversion plays with the boundaries of a well-established story structure, crafting something new out of something old. This can be used to pull off a twist of course, but it's most interesting when deployed early, allowing the bulk of the movie to explore the repercussions of the change. Something like Trap comes to mind: instead of a father and daughter trying to evade or catch the serial killer locked in the stadium with them, we immediately learn the father is that serial killer. Which places us in a different movie, one less well-trodden, giving it more space to surprise us and play with its ideas, unencumbered by our preconceived notions. Crucially, there's nothing it's inherently saying about what it's subverting, except "It doesn't have to go that way".

Conversely, deconstruction is necessarily commenting on its subject. Its primary goal is to shine a light on the foundation and scaffolding on which it's built to point out the weaknesses. Most often, it points at shoddy construction, questioning why we accept things in movies that would make little to no sense in real life. Sometimes, it highlights insidious tropes, such as the "magical Negro" or "manic pixie dream girl". In many cases, it does this with humor, asking the audience to not only see through that idea but to laugh at it, removing its power. Which means they're almost inevitably comedies first and foremost, as the thrash between presenting the cliche and undercutting the cliche leaves little room to effectively build an earnest character drama or believable romance.

But that doesn't stop filmmakers from trying.

The entire premise of Heart Eyes calls out the contrived nature of both slasher films and romcoms, then attempts to use the scattered pieces to reconstruct a Frankenstein-like synthesis of the two. The opening scene serves as a great encapsulation of the tone to expect throughout the runtime. We witness an overlit hillside winery in which a dude with nothing going on between the eyes proposes to his bridezilla-to-be using a script she wrote for him, before their "spontaneous" moment is ruined by the photographer informing them he missed it, and could they run it back? At which point it's truly ruined by the HEK making an appearance and doing what serial killers do best. Director Josh Ruben doesn't hold back, either, building the scene with a few standard but well executed kills before Adeline (Lauren O'Hara) leads the HEK on a chase which ends with a tense standoff before her slow, gruesome death.

When Rebuen and the team of three writers are willing to let themselves settle into the earnest side of either genre, they're honestly pretty effective. The meet-cute between protagonists Ally and Jay (Olivia Holt and Mason Gooding) is disarmingly charming, and they share wonderful chemistry throughout the story, even as the plot beats cause my eyes to roll straight out of my skull. The investigative team of Detectives Zeke Hobbs and Jeanine Shaw (Devon Sawa and Jordana Brewster) is suitably charismatic and intense, while occasionally dialing it up just a smidge too far such that it tips over into funny. It got me whenever it was willing to play inside the lines while pushing the boundaries, or cut its actors loose to be completely unhinged, such as how Ally's boss Caroline Cane is a delightfully over the top Michaela Watkins.

But far, far too often it stepped outside of the plot to comment on the strange behavior of those inside it, or to boldly underline every single reference to pop culture. For example, did we really need Ally to immediately point out the detectives are named Hobbs and Shaw? Or to comment on how weird it was that her ex told her and Jay to "not get killed" after seeing them kiss on Valentine's Day? It belies the filmmaker's lack of confidence in the audience and a desperation for us to appreciate how clever they are, especially when appearing in a movie whose tone is so uneven that they stand out like a sore thumb. Which is all before Ally's best friend Monica (Gigi Zumbado) delivers a "go get 'em!" speech near the end made entirely of the titles of classic romcoms. It's always risky to explicitly remind us of beloved movies at the moment we should be feeling something for your own, and the effect here is to highlight how little we've seen Ally and Jay get to know each other. While plenty of classic romcoms or romances span less than a day, the constant dealing with the HEK frequently distracts from the totally-not-a-couple.

Maybe this would be more palatable if it had anything to say about either genre. The most successful versions of a deconstruction offer an alternative approach, attempting to lead its followers in a new and more interesting direction. Think of the effect Scream had on slashers, or that Austin Powers had on the Bond films. But Ruben stops at highlighting the weaknesses of the target genres (especially romcoms), and doesn't offer much in return. There are some fun set pieces and solid kills, such as a drive-in set bloodbath with His Girl Friday playing on a huge screen and the final confrontation in St. Valentine's church, but there's nothing particularly interesting or noteworthy about them. Except that they engage in the same level of contrivance on which the screenplay is clowning.

While a slasher doesn't require commentary beyond the general "nowhere is safe" conceit they evoke by default, its omission makes juxtaposition with another genre framework feel hollow and cheap. Lacking the skillful imitation and thematic depth of Fresh, or even the dumb fun of Thanksgiving, it ends up a pale imitation of all of its touchpoints. Maybe you'll be able to extract some joy from its sense of humor, or from how hard it leans into the gore and violence, and if so, then fair enough. But if its cohesion you're looking for, you're unlikely to fall in love with Heart Eyes.