Anyone But You

There is an appealing directness to Anyone But You. It knows it is a comedy, understands the expectations attached to that label, and then looks for small ways to give the material its own voice. Directed by Will Gluck, it leans on Sydney Sweeney and Glen Powell to give the material a human centre. At story level, Bea, Ben's and Australia. So the shape the central setup, but the later turns are best left for the film to reveal.

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Comedy lives or dies on rhythm, and the film is at its best when it trusts the performers to find it. Reactions and awkward pauses often do more than the biggest punchlines, creating a tone that feels relaxed instead of desperately eager to please. The approach works in patches rather than as a complete whole. Several scenes find the right tone, and the cast occasionally lifts the material above its more predictable instincts. Elsewhere, the pacing loosens and the film seems uncertain about which idea deserves priority.

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Performance wise, Sydney Sweeney provides the most dependable anchor, bringing focus to the film whenever the plot threatens to become mechanical. Glen Powell offers a useful contrast in energy, and Alexandra Shipp helps widen the emotional range of the ensemble. The acting is not equally subtle in every scene, but the group understands the required tone and rarely appears to be performing in different films.

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Thematically, Anyone But You is interested in status, embarrassment and the gap between the person someone wants to be and the person everyone else can plainly see. The humour matters because it exposes vanity and vulnerability at the same time, allowing a joke to reveal character instead of merely interrupting the story. The film is most persuasive when these ideas emerge from behaviour rather than speeches. That additional layer gives the story more purpose than a sequence of familiar genre beats, even if every implication is not explored with equal depth.

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The filmmaking is deliberately supportive rather than showy. Framing stays close enough to catch changes in expression, the edit respects the rhythm of conversation, and music is used to shape tone without doing all the emotional work. This approach places pressure on the performers, but it also gives their reactions room to register before the story moves toward its next required beat.

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The main problem is that the film keeps signalling effects it has not fully earned. Emotional turns arrive before the relationships have enough texture, while the pacing alternates between hurry and drift. The result is watchable, but frustratingly close to being better.

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Overall, Anyone But You is a mixed experience: engaging in places, undercooked in others. It is best approached by comedy fans who enjoy character, timing and an ensemble willing to look a little foolish who can forgive inconsistency for a promising idea.