Always approach rom-coms with caution, especially when they purport to subvert the genre. The “subversive” ones are, quite often, the ones that adhere closest to the formulas. Writer-director Leslye Headland very openly attempts to switch up the genre’s frustratingly predictable conventions with Sleeping with Other People and her solution is sex. That is, she makes her characters talk about sex more, have sex more and harbor semi-debilitating sexual addictions. If their quirks were supported by the script and if her leads’ self-enforced platonic relationship wasn’t so indebted to When Harry Met Sally, Headland might have had something here. Sadly, Sleeping with Other People is just as beholden to the Happily Ever After finale as any other rom-com offering.
The inevitable couple is Jake (Jason Sudeikis) and Lainey (Alison Brie) who lose their virginity to one another in college and don’t see each other again until 12 years later at a meeting for sex addicts. Jake is a thinly drawn womanizer, and Lainey is stuck in a cycle of cheating on her boyfriend with college crush and newlywed Matthew (Adam Scott). Jake and Lainey support each other through their platonic friendship and vow to change their ways, with less emphasis on reform and more on helping each other find a healthy relationship.
Headland isn’t deluded enough to ignore her film’s similarities to the Billy Crystal-Meg Ryan hit, having referred to it as “When Harry Met Sally for assholes.” The question is whether she meant her film as a romantic comedy assholes can appreciate or a romantic comedy about assholes. Since assholes likely dump all over gushy romances, the latter makes more sense. Also, Jake and Lainey are not the most likable characters. But herein lies Headland’s biggest problem. The whole sex addicts falling in love premise (à la Thanks For Sharing) provides us with a pat obstacle to these characters’ heteronormative happiness and opportunities for their emotionally irresponsible promiscuity to disappoint us, but the very premise that Jake and Lainey are, in fact, sex addicts isn’t believable. Sudeikis aims for some kind of charming yet dangerously sexy vibe but he’s too clean-cut. It’s also worth noting that Jake’s addiction is never painted as detrimental. He’s no more sexually active than the typical rom-com stud. Brie’s role, on the other hand, is all about vulnerability.
Despite the fact that Headland does nothing with it over the course of the film, Lainey’s intimacy problems are deep and without a doubt the most substantive aspect of the film. Matthew ignored Lainey attentions in college and now carries on their affair, though indifferent to her feelings. Lainey says she’s “addicted to love,” but what she’s really addicted to is Matthew, getting attention from someone who would never give it before. It’s a bizarre victory for her and one that causes junkie-like reactions when Matthew fails to text and devastating anxiety attacks when he tries to break away. The tonal shifts from these emotionally wrought scenes to raunchy comedy confuse the film’s message. Headland tries for a comedy with heart, a realistic depiction of modern love, but she falls back on a too-neat finale that, yes, involves a wedding.
In addition to that disappointing cliché is Headland’s inadvertent commentary on sex itself. Jake and Lainey resist entering into a sexual relationship, allowing their bond to grow through friendship. Sex is only meant to provoke the audience and to highlight flaws in these characters. It’s surprisingly prudish of Headland to affirm abstinence as the ultimate courtship, especially given the satisfying subplot involving Jake and his boss, Paula (Amanda Peet). Since Lainey is off limits, Jake puts his womanizing skills to task by calculatedly and sincerely pursuing Paula until she falls for the charm and her young son falls for him. It’s a wholly believable relationship for the little time spent developing it. It’s also a clear indication of Sudeikis and Peet’s natural chemistry. But this relationship that threatens to make Jake a happy family man is abandoned in the film’s final 10 minutes in order to bring together our addled leads in a cloying and rote denouement.
Sleeping with Other People, like Headland’s Bachelorette, wants to have grit and tries to depict a world where intimacy is complex and emotional traumas are real. But for all the talk about subverting genre and portraying realistic relationships, Headland acquiesces to romantic comedy mainstays. What makes this doubly disappointing is the fact that Headland ultimately reverts to the fairy tale that she’s spent 90 minutes debunking.