As Madonna once wisely told us, “Life is a mystery.” And that’s how I feel about telling you that I mostly enjoyed Players (2024)—a movie all about a woman with almost no female friends who, along with her pals, carries out elaborate pre-planned setups to land one-night stands until she falls hard for a “grown-up” man and decides to concoct the ultimate “play” to land him for good. This rom-com has a plotline that holds together about as well as wet tissue paper, some real red-flag raising aspects, a runtime that stretches toward the egregious, a few lewd jokes that might make teens still high on the discovery of sex waive the white flag of surrender, and yet (and YET!)—perhaps because of the cast’s chemistry, the goofiness, and a closing speech that feels very on point—it still hit just right. Or mostly right. Right enough. Anyway, let me take you there.
The story begins with some upbeat music that sounds suited to a spy movie as bright graphics depicting different dating ploys with names like “Spill and Swoop,” “Brit Brat,” “Lost Scarf,” “Drip Drop,” and “Fiji Fantasy,” move across the screen. In a voiceover, several friends discuss the merits of each plan, discarding this one because it will take too long and that one because the woman doesn’t look like she would wear a pink scarf, until they ultimately land on the one they’ll deploy. Mack (Gina Rodriguez) is clearly the brains behind the whole operation, able to tell that the woman is a tourist in town by her shoes alone, able to keep the list of plays well-filed in her brain, quick to settle disputes about whose turn it is to pick someone up. This time around it’s Brannagan (Augustus Prew) who is trying to score, and he is basically always on the make, happy to go home with men or women. See? The people behind this movie seem to be saying. Look at our very modern tale of pickup artists! There’s a woman at the helm and a bisexual man in the group. How can you fault us? After Mack and Brannagan play out the Fiji Fantasy—which involves her dropping a lot of info about him being a great lover, having extensive wealth, and then getting in a fight with him, all within earshot of their target—she along with the other two guys, Adam (Damon Wayans Jr.) and Little (Joel Courtney), leave the bar so he can finish conning his quest without fear of being found out. Sure. Because the other three couldn’t just go to another corner of this dark bar and remain unnoticed by this woman who has seen Mack once for about thirty seconds, and only out of the corner of her eye.
Anyway, out on the street, Little (who is Brannagan’s younger brother) asks Mack what will happen when the woman finds out that Brannagan doesn’t actually have any money. Wouldn’t they have addressed this question a hundred times over in the years they’ve been doing this schtick? No matter, Mack insists that the play is really about “flattery and fantasy” and that they are “seducing her with the effort of lying.” Ew. (And given this, what do you think her thoughts are on Rohypnol?) Mack insists that Brannagan’s target is a “woman on this planet who’s been terrorized by toxic rom-coms. She’s not a fool. She knows what’s up.” This is one of the more fascinating (and by fascinating I do mean fucked up) justifications for lying your ass off to a woman that I have ever heard. Women have been lied to and tricked by the patriarchy for generations and therefore we should continue to lie to them and continue to feed them the same unattainable fantasy, but most certainly without their consent or control, in order to have casual sex with them? I mean, if this woman wants the fantasy of some rich dude she could just choose to bang a finance bro or something for the night. Or pick up any guy, ask him not to speak, and make up any story she wants in her own damn mind. Women are indeed not fools, nor do we need to suffer them. Also, rom-coms telling me that rom-coms are awful is so tired. I realize it’s supposed to sound smart and postmodern and whatever, but it just makes me roll my eyes to the point of straining some really delicate and important muscles.
Back in the movie, Brannagan messes up with the woman and Little heads back to help him try again with someone else. This leaves Adam and Mack alone as he walks her to the subway. They discuss layoffs at their local paper where she covers local sports and he handles graphics. (Brannagan writes obituaries. Little doesn’t work.) He presses her on the feature article she’s been trying to write for ages, which would hopefully move her out of covering things like Chess Boxing (yes, a real sport) and into writing bigger, meatier things. The two are clearly at ease together. (This is also perhaps the chillest I’ve ever seen Damon Wayans, Jr. in a role.) He is supportive, kind, and attentive. There is absolutely no play or angle in the way he talks to her, so we know he’s likely the real love of her life, the real grown-up in the room, and she’s currently utterly oblivious to it.
At home, Mack rushes around, shoving her mail, which includes a fly fishing magazine, into her neighbor’s mailbox, arranging all kinds of rods and reels around her apartment, turning on a fishing program, and placing a tackle box within view of the door. As if on cue, the doorbell rings and when she answers it (oh-so-casually, of course) there stands her extremely beautiful, bearded, and well-muscled neighbor (Brock O’Hurn), who she knows is moving out over the weekend, because, as she told Adam and Little, she “doesn’t shit where she eats.” Wouldn’t doesn’t “bang where she hangs” be more accurate? Or doesn’t “bone that close to home”? Anytoots, he is very excited to see she’s into fly fishing, but, honestly, he mostly just appears to be excited and willing to put his rod into her reel. I mean, this whole setup is so over-the-top that it strains all forms of credulity. How did she acquire so much fly fishing stuff? Did she actually own it all before? Or did she waste tons of her meager salary? I’m pretty sure she could have just knocked on his door and asked if he wanted to come over and it would have ended the same way. Or, if she wanted to be coy, she could have put any piece of mail in his mailbox (not a euphemism, but not not a euphemism) and then opened the door and invited him in. Do people really need a whole fantasy for less than an entire night of sex? Was he thinking about how cool it was that she was into fly fishing or how cool it was that he was having sex unexpectedly with the attractive neighbor he would likely never see again?
Side-tracked again! It probably won’t be the last time because, as I said, this plot hangs together like a dusty cobweb. The next day, when Mack just-so-happens to be in the office (something that usually only happens when she wants to steal office supplies) in walks Lucifer Morningstar. No. Sorry. In walks Nick Russel (Tom Ellis), whose presence has much the same effect on Mack and Brannagan that Lucifer Morningstar’s did on people.
It turns out he’s an old friend of their editor Kirk (Marin Hinkle) and is in town to work on his new book, which is about serious war stuff and certainly not anything to do with local sports or obituaries or graphics for a local rag that’s dealing with layoffs, because he’s a Big Deal. That night, when everyone, including Nick, are out at the bar, Mack decides to make a play for him and of course it works perfectly in terms of a one-night-stand. But, after being in his very grown-up apartment and gazing upon his awards, his books, and his matching dishes—not euphemisms—Mack decides she wants to make one final play for a real relationship.
Meanwhile, it should be noted that Adam, who always saves Mack some of his french fries and knows she eats falafel when she’s sad, has stopped using plays to pick up women in bars. Instead, much to the shock and awe of the rest of the gang, he just asks for their numbers. But he’s very cagey about any other details. BECAUSE HE’S SECRETLY IN LOVE WITH MACK. Sorry for yelling. And, because he is in love with her and can’t stand to see her sad and lonely, but also can’t tell her that he’s in love with her, he agrees to help her land Nick Russel. Phew. He must be the saddest bear on the planet, but we don’t really get to see much about him aside from when Mack is around.
They come up with a very complicated plan that involves binders and tabs and roping in Ashley (Liza Koshy), Kirk’s administrative assistant, who says she’s always wanted to see “how old people date,” has an immediate spark with Little, and adds some extra oomph to the movie. They make the plan seem like it’s all a stroke of Mack’s genius, but it’s really just a rehash of every ploy from every romantic movie involving subterfuge ever made: Casually bump into him, be unimpressed by his impressive feats, pretend not to notice him, ignore him, pretend to like what he likes. They add interest, at least, with the four and eventually five of them trying to plan it out with lots of props in the conference room and implementing the plan with disguises and well-planted decoys. It feels energetic, goofy, and fun that they are, um, trying to catfish this man into dating Mack. Seriously, though, I think what made the movie work despite its obvious flaws is that it’s well cast—Gina Rodriguez is so well-suited to this kind of role—and the chemistry of everyone feels constantly bubbly, silly, and in sync. Yes, some of more vulgar jokes go on long enough that it felt like it was a contest to see who could outdo whom with mentions of jizz, but you still feel the cast is having fun with it, and even though it made me cringe, it was still worth it for the other moments that didn’t.
Of course, Nick is not the man for Mack. He’s pretentious and loves to eat Branzino and doesn’t care about the sports she does and he really doesn’t want to understand her or her friends at all. (And Tom Ellis is so good at playing this role while it still feeling self-aware enough for comedy.) Mack can’t see any of this at first. All she can see is that she’s winning at landing this handsome, intelligent, sought-after man who she thought was out of her league and has the accoutrements of adulthood. She can’t feel how she’s making herself small to fit into his world. She can’t see how he disparages what she values or how important she is to the people around her. Adam sees all of this clearly, just as he sees Mack for who she is and loves her for it. Just as she can be herself around him and share her deepest fears and desires. But will Mack realize it in time? I mean, of course. This isn’t some Shakespearean tragedy! In the end, though, it seems that perhaps people don’t want the fantasy or the lie. They want what may not shine the brightest, but is real and true and gets you for you. Or, you know, if I were to bring this full circle, “…true blue, baby, I love you.” (But we do really want clean, well-made sheets as well.)
Overall Rating on the Chronically Streaming Pain Scale:
Chronically Streaming 