Sex comedy ‘You, Me & Her’ struggles to get it on
Two into three is the equation “You, Me & Her” attempts to solve with its version of menage a blah. Written by star, Selina Ringel, and directed by her husband, Dan Levy Dagerman, the movie is an alleged comedic look at a stagnant marriage in immediate need of spicing up. To that end, the unhappy couple just happens to encounter the world’s sexiest bisexual fitness instructor at a posh Mexican resort. You can guess the rest.
Therein lies the film’s most glaring flaw, its relentless predictability. Well, that and the ease with which everything falls neatly into place, especially after our intrepid young marrieds head home to their busy, chaotic lives in SoCal. Is their bed big enough for three? And how do they hide this kinky arrangement from their housekeeper and contend with the inopportune arrival of participants in their weekly trivia night? The answers arrive in the form of a classic farce minus the laughs.
Before Ringel’s script goes completely off the rails, she’s onto something bordering on confessional, weaving personal details into her character, Mags. Both are of Mexican/Jewish heritage, fluent in Spanish and English and immensely proud of their Tapatío roots. Where they differ, one assumes, is in how they are regarded by their workaholic spouses.
Much like “Nightbitch” before it, our protagonist is left holding the diaper bag whenever the occasion calls for parenting. She does all the work while hubby, Ash (Ritesh Rajan), skates, devoting nearly all of his time to a get-rich-quick scheme involving marijuana distribution. Or, what his disapproving father (Gerry Bednob) calls “drug dealing.” Except in California, he’s reminded, it’s perfectly legal. The irony is that the person going to pot is Mags.
When she’s not occupied with “Mom” duties, she’s knee-deep into running a successful financial consulting firm with her father or in bed sulking after catching Ash jacking off to porn when he could be making love to her. Ash, to his credit, isn’t entirely clueless. He knows there’s trouble in paradise, so he books the trip to Mexico to reignite the passion. But he can’t put down his phone long enough to arouse anything but resentment.
That all changes when Mags happens upon an impromptu yoga session on the beach. She can’t take her eyes off Angela (Sydney Park), the free-spirited instructor who is equally infatuated with Mags. Without a second thought, she proposes a three-way to a highly receptive Ash. Now, he’s eager to put down the cell and bask in the sight of his wife getting it on with another woman. What could go wrong?
OK, I’m intrigued, too. But the ultimate result is equivalent to a cold shower. Ringel has no idea where to go next or what she wants to say about Mags suddenly realizing she’s more turned on by women than men. So, she cops out, resorting to cheap laughs instead of indulging in the more dramatic aspects of Mags’ lustful attraction to Angela. In real life, Ash would likely be toast, left to fend for himself while Mags and Angela grab the tot and head off into the sunset.
Mags ponders the idea. Unfortunately, Ringel does not. <spoiler alert> She opts for Mags to take the more conventional route of trying to make things work with Ash. <end spoiler>Why? Does Mags think the sorry state of her marriage will somehow turn around knowing the thing that rocks her world is sex with another woman?
Sorry, not buying it. What I do admire are the fine performances by the three leads. They bust their butts trying to sell the endless implausibilities. But Dagerman’s uneven direction too often leaves them unsure of how to project the right tone. The result is a movie that oscillates jerkily between comedy and drama, excelling at neither.
Dagerman does deliver a handsome-looking picture, making the most of the exotic locations and the sculpted physiques of his three principles, all of whom are easy on the eyes. But at the core, they are all as empty and uncompelling as humans can get. What should be erotic is merely erratic, rendering “You, Me & Her” anything but a “three for all.”
Movie review
You, Me & Her
Rated: R for sensuality, sexual situation, smoking, drug use and language
Cast: Selina Ringel, Sydney Park, Ritesh Rajan, Anna Campbell and Graham Sibley
Director: Dan Levy Dagerman
Writer: Selina Ringel
Runtime: 94 minutes
Where: In theaters Feb. 14 (limited)
Grade: C
