Steven Kanter and Henry Loevner’s “The End of Us” might just be the single most obvious romantic-comedy that some opportunistic Hollywood up-and-comers could — and inevitably did — make about life during Covid-19. Here’s the premise: A couple in their late twenties suffers a rough, long overdue breakup mere hours before Tom Hanks gets sick and California issues a stay-at-home-order, forcing the exes to keep living together with little other human contact for an indefinite period of time. Grievances will be aired, drunken “we probably shouldn’t do that again” sex will be had, “Tiger King” will be watched. Ah, the good old days.
Eschewing the claustrophobic mania of “Locked Down,” the spiraling paranoia of “Songbird,” and the elemental folk horror of Ben Wheatley’s forthcoming “Into the Earth,” “The End of Us” is , and the first of this hopefully short-lived sub-genre to rely upon a certain degree of nostalgia...
Eschewing the claustrophobic mania of “Locked Down,” the spiraling paranoia of “Songbird,” and the elemental folk horror of Ben Wheatley’s forthcoming “Into the Earth,” “The End of Us” is , and the first of this hopefully short-lived sub-genre to rely upon a certain degree of nostalgia...
- 3/16/2021
- by David Ehrlich
- Indiewire
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