You might speculate that co-directors Mac Eldridge and Tom Dean named their lead characters Charlie and Harper after the viral internal twin baby meme. Or perhaps they are just fans of “Two and A Half Men.” What is beyond speculation is that time-jumping is the preferred way to structure romantic dramas these days, à la “We Live In Time” from last year’s TIFF with Florence Pugh and Andrew Garfield. We must wonder now, as then, if this is simply what is needed to get screenplays greenlit today. Because otherwise, what interest would there be in making another straight, white, heteronormative “girl meets boy” young love story? “CODA” star Emilia Jones finds gravitas and insight in an otherwise familiar story. Meanwhile, “Love, Simon” lead Nick Robinson will only further his heartthrob status with adoring fans after “Charlie Harper.”
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Fundamentally, “Charlie Harper” is a simple enough ‘girl meets boy’, ‘girl falls in love with boy’, ‘girl falls out of love with boy’ story. It is complicated by splintering it into a million pieces and rearranging them out of order. There are also two ‘frame narratives’ established, one for Harper (Emilia Jones), the other for Charlie (Nick Robinson), where they are each conversing with other people with direct-to-camera addresses that function like twin voice-overs throughout the rest of the film. Lest you feel confused about where you are, the filmmakers also deploy three different aspect ratios for the three main periods: Cinemascope for the youngest portions, full screen for the middle years, and the Academy ratio for the mature years. The aspect ratio changes aren’t exactly needed, though, as it’s a simple enough story.
The similarities with “We Live In Time” aren’t limited to the structure. Jones, like Pugh, is a chef. Every love story needs some conflict to unsettle or undo it. In that case, it was Pugh’s terminal illness. In “Charlie Harper,” it is Robinson’s alcohol and drug addiction. Despite this grown-up subject, “Charlie Harper” can’t help but feel like a kiddie version of “We Live In Time” or other stories of similar ilk. There is adult language present, but the treatment of alcoholism is so surface-level that “Charlie Harper” seems to be paying the barest lip service to an otherwise devastating condition that can truly tear apart lives and families. The audience is spared any ugliness that comes with substance abuse, and Robinson remains impeccably pretty throughout. Even Pugh went bald for the latter stages of her cancer portrayal.
It is clear that alcoholism is a conduit for the filmmakers to break up the central relationship rather than a subject they are interested in, in any meaningful way, which is fine, since “Charlie Harper” is first and foremost a relationship drama. And writer Dean overcommits in that direction, with a script singularly focused on the two leads to the exclusion of any meaningful supporting characters. That’s not necessarily bad; it can bring intensity, rigor and concentration to a true two-hander. It does, though, make significant demands of the dialogue or what they say to each other. For this reason, the construction of “Charlie Harper” has a curious diminishing returns effect.
The film builds a substantive and elaborate ‘mythology’ around Charlie and Harper – when they first met, kissed, moved in together, etc. Jones and Robinson talk about these events repeatedly, in exact detail. Firstly, this is your regular-ass white-girl-white-guy story happening a million times over in every state in the country. So it is alarming to see it portrayed with such emphasis and focus as if it were something truly singular and particular, when it is the most generic thing ever. Secondly, many of these foundational OG events are actually portrayed as flashbacks late in the film. They are unnerving for the fact of being as banal as they are and also exactly as described. Essentially, the film’s design makes these flashbacks unnecessary, and what should feel revealing feels utterly tacked on and pointless. When Gaspar Noé’s “Love,” also a non-linear romantic drama, flashes back to the early days of the main couple, it feels shocking and insightful, and reveals new information. Not the case with “Charlie Harper”.
“Charlie Harper” is a two-hander, and its success lives and dies on the strength of its leads, and both Jones and Robinson are enormously appealing. Having carried Best Picture Winner “CODA” on her shoulders, Jones again proves she is up to the task as she pilots “Charlie Harper,” haltingly at first but much more confidently later on. What could have been a generic young woman role blooms, acquires specificity with Jones’ flinty femininity, pathos, and rare ability to portray a good person with an active inner life.
Robinson, for his part, won’t shake off his pretty boy moniker, nor should he try; god forbid we have some good-looking young stars. At the same time, he doesn’t dig as deep as Jones; as is often the case, the male part isn’t nearly as well developed. But Robinson handles the material just fine. One peculiar aspect about his character is that he loves reading books, which is presented as somehow conferring inherent virtue upon him. However, he’s essentially a drunk layabout compared to Jones’ successful chef. His character is made out to be a genius. However, we don’t sense his speech is particularly articulate or refined – another instance of “Charlie Harper” trying to conjure up a character trait through exposition without dramatizing it.
“Charlie Harper” is a fine romantic melodrama. Despite the smattering of adult language, it might be more palatable for younger viewers since nothing adult is depicted—even the sex and cheating are PG-13, along with the alcohol abuse. Theatrical waters are perilous for romantic dramas, but Robinson’s name recognition and Jones’ esteem could attract a sizable audience on streaming. [B-]
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