Love Again

There is a specific brand of madness required to build an entire feature film around the premise of unintentional stalking via telecommunications, and yet, Love Again walks into the room with the confidence of a power ballad. It is a movie that feels like it was grown in a petri dish using DNA from a 1998 Miramax script and a 2023 Instagram "healing" infographic. I watched this on a Tuesday night while my neighbor was outside loudly power-washing his driveway; the rhythmic whoosh of the water actually provided a surprisingly fitting percussion to the film’s many, many montages of people looking pensively at their iPhones.

The Gospel According to Céline

Let’s be honest: you aren’t checking out this movie for a nuanced exploration of the grieving process. You’re here because Céline Dion plays a version of herself who functions as a romantic oracle. In the landscape of contemporary cinema, where every mid-budget movie feels like it’s auditioning for a permanent home on a streaming carousel, Love Again makes a bold play for the theatrical experience by leaning into the sheer, unadulterated celebrity of its Canadian icon.

The plot involves Mira Ray (Priyanka Chopra Jonas), a children’s book illustrator struggling after the sudden death of her fiancé. To cope, she sends soul-baring texts to his old number. Enter Rob Burns (Sam Heughan), a music journalist who has inherited that number as his work line. Instead of doing the sane thing—blocking the number or replying "New phone, who dis?"—Rob becomes obsessed with the mystery woman’s grief-stricken prose. He then uses his professional access to Céline Dion to help him "win" a woman whose privacy he has been technically violating for weeks. It’s basically a romantic comedy for people who think the "terms and conditions" page is a suggestion.

A London-Sized New York

Despite being set in a very glossy, very romanticized New York City, the production actually decamped to London for the majority of the shoot. You can see it in the architecture if you squint, but more importantly, the film carries that specific "Pandemic Production" energy. Because of travel restrictions and COVID protocols in late 2020 and 2021, Sam Heughan and Céline Dion never actually filmed their scenes in the same room. Through the magic of green screens and clever editing, they appear to be sharing intimate conversations about the nature of love, but the spatial reality is much lonelier.

This digital patchwork is a hallmark of this era's filmmaking. It adds a strange, slightly uncanny valley layer to the "drama." When Priyanka Chopra Jonas—who is doing a tremendous amount of heavy lifting here to make Mira feel like a real human being—is onscreen, the movie feels grounded. She brings a genuine warmth and a believable sadness that almost makes you forget that the central conceit is arguably a felony in several states. Meanwhile, Sam Heughan trades his Outlander kilt for a series of very nice sweaters, playing Rob with a sort of bewildered puppy-dog energy that keeps the character from feeling like a total creep.

The Return of the Mid-Budget Comfort Watch

In an era dominated by multiverse-spanning epics, there’s something almost rebellious about a movie this simple. Director Jim Strouse (who previously gave us the much more cynical The Incredible Jessica James) leans into the cheese with an earnestness that is either admirable or terrifying, depending on your tolerance for sentiment.

The film is essentially a delivery system for five new Céline Dion songs, and while the product placement for her brand is aggressive, it’s also the most entertaining part of the experience. The supporting cast, particularly Sofia Barclay as Mira’s sister and Russell Tovey as one of Rob’s colleagues, provide the necessary comedic friction to stop the movie from sliding entirely into a puddle of syrup. Lydia West also shows up, reminding us that she is one of the most charismatic actors working today, even when she’s mostly tasked with reacting to Rob’s questionable life choices.

There’s a scene where Priyanka Chopra Jonas has to go on a disastrous Tinder date with a man played by her real-life husband, Nick Jonas. It’s a meta-nod to the social media age of celebrity, a little wink to the fans that acknowledges the film knows exactly what kind of fluffy, celebrity-driven vehicle it is.

Love Again is a fascinating artifact of the early 2020s. It’s a movie that attempts to bridge the gap between old-school romantic sincerity and the messy, technology-dependent reality of modern dating. It doesn't always succeed—the pacing is a bit wonky and the premise is objectively "yikes"—but it has a giant, beating heart. If you’re in the mood for something that requires zero intellectual calories and features a world-class diva giving dating advice via green screen, you could do a lot worse. It’s the cinematic equivalent of a box of grocery store cupcakes: sugary, slightly artificial, but exactly what you want when you’re having a bad day.