What Men Want

There is a specific kind of headache you get when a movie tries to scream every joke directly into your ear canal. I watched What Men Want on a Tuesday evening while my upstairs neighbor was apparently practicing for a competitive clog-dancing tournament, and honestly, the dual-layer cacophony felt appropriate. This is a loud, sweaty, high-energy comedy that behaves like it’s terrified you’ll look at your phone if there isn't a pratfall or a scream every thirty seconds.

Coming out in 2019, this film felt like one of the last gasps of the mid-budget studio comedy before they all migrated permanently to Netflix and became "Content." It’s a gender-flipped remake of the 2000 Nancy Meyers hit What Women Want, but instead of Mel Gibson’s chauvinistic ad exec learning to be a "sensitive man," we get Taraji P. Henson as Ali Davis, a hyper-competent sports agent trying to survive a workplace that smells exclusively of mahogany and unearned confidence.

The Power of the Pissed-Off Protagonist

The absolute best thing about this movie—and arguably the only reason it doesn't collapse under its own frantic energy—is Taraji P. Henson. We’ve seen her do the "prestige" thing in Hidden Figures and the "soap opera royalty" thing in Empire, but here she leans into a manic, physical comedy that reminds me of the great screwball actresses of the 30s. Her facial expressions alone are worth the price of admission. When she first realizes she can hear the internal monologues of every man in the room, her reaction isn’t "Aha! A superpower!" It’s a look of profound, soul-deep exhaustion at the sheer stupidity she’s forced to inhabit.

The plot kicks off when Ali, passed over for a promotion in favor of a guy who looks like he was grown in a "Bro" petri dish, visits a psychic played by a delightfully weird Erykah Badu. One potent tea blend and a head injury at a club later, Ali starts hearing the "inner voices" of the men around her. It’s a classic Contemporary Cinema trope: the magical inconvenience that facilitates a character arc. But while the 2000 original was about a man learning to listen, this version is about a woman learning to navigate a system that was built to ignore her.

The 2019 Cultural Snapshot

Watching this now, only a few years later, it’s a fascinating time capsule of the late 2010s "Girl Boss" era. It’s a movie that desperately wants to tackle the #MeToo-adjacent conversations about workplace toxicity, but it also wants to make sure there are plenty of jokes about Tracy Morgan's character being an eccentric father to a basketball prodigy. Tracy Morgan, who gave us so much gold in 30 Rock, is essentially playing a version of himself here, and while he’s funny, he occasionally feels like he’s in a completely different movie.

The film excels when it slows down. The romance between Ali and Will (Aldis Hodge, who was also excellent in The Invisible Man) provides a necessary groundedness. Aldis Hodge has this effortless, warm charisma that makes you wonder why he isn’t the lead in every romantic comedy made in the last decade. Their chemistry is the "secret sauce" that keeps the film from feeling like a series of disconnected sketches.

Interestingly, the production didn't just swap the gender; they shifted the industry from advertising to sports management. Director Adam Shankman, who handled the musical energy of Hairspray (2007) and the fluff of The Wedding Planner, knows how to keep things moving. The movie was filmed largely in Atlanta, taking advantage of those sweet, sweet tax credits that have turned Georgia into the Hollywood of the South. You can feel that polished, bright, high-key lighting that defined the "studio look" of the late 2010s.

Comedy by Volume

The "hit-to-miss" ratio on the jokes is about 50/50. For every clever observation about how men use "locker room talk" to mask their own insecurities, there’s a scene of Ali acting "crazy" in public that feels a bit dated. The film struggles with its R-rating, sometimes throwing in profanity or raunchy gags just because it can, rather than because they fit the scene. It’s a movie that thinks being the loudest person in the room is the same thing as being the funniest.

One of the standout supporting turns comes from Josh Brener as Ali’s assistant, Brandon. He’s essentially the "Judy Greer" of this movie—the loyal sidekick who gets the best one-liners and has to react to the protagonist's descent into madness. The interplay between him and Taraji P. Henson feels genuine, and their subplot offers a more nuanced look at male-female dynamics than the broader "All Men Are Dummies" theme the marketing suggests.

The film’s box office performance was solid, pulling in nearly $70 million on a $20 million budget. It proved that there was still an appetite for theatrical comedies, even as Marvel was sucking all the oxygen out of the room. It’s a "popcorn" movie in the truest sense—it’s salty, a little bit greasy, and you’ll probably forget the specific flavors an hour after you finish it, but it hits the spot while you’re in the seat.

Ultimately, What Men Want is a showcase for Taraji P. Henson’s limitless charisma. While the script relies on a lot of "current moment" buzzwords and some fairly predictable plot beats, the central performance keeps it afloat. It’s not a "masterclass" in comedy, but it is a fun, occasionally biting look at the Exhausting Experience of Being a Woman in a Man’s World. If you’re looking for a breezy Friday night watch that doesn't ask too much of you, Ali Davis’s psychic crisis is a solid bet. Just maybe turn the volume down a notch.