Another Simple Favor

There is a specific kind of "Paul Feig chic" that requires a very particular blood-alcohol level to fully appreciate—somewhere between your second and third martini, where the world starts to look as crisp and dangerous as a tailored blazer. Entering the theater for Another Simple Favor, I knew exactly what the dress code was: a sharp wit, a cynical heart, and a complete disregard for the laws of suburban sanity. It has been seven years since we last saw Stephanie and Emily trade barbs and gin recipes, and while the location has shifted from the Connecticut suburbs to the sun-drenched, sapphire coast of Capri, the central question remains the same: why is it so much fun to watch these two terrible, wonderful women destroy each other?

Mediterranean Malice and Martini Refills

I watched this while sitting next to a woman who was audibly whispering "No, girl, don’t go in there" at the screen every five minutes, and honestly, her commentary was the perfect hype track for a film that thrives on high-stakes stupidity. Paul Feig (who basically invented the modern "mummy-noir" with the first film) understands that we aren’t here for a tight, procedural mystery. We’re here to see Blake Lively swan through an Italian villa looking like a lethal Hitchcock blonde while Anna Kendrick vibrates with enough nervous energy to power a small espresso machine.

The plot, involving a wedding between Emily and a mysterious Italian businessman played by Michele Morrone, is essentially a 120-minute luxury commercial interrupted by the occasional stabbing. It’s convoluted, messy, and leans heavily into the "destination sequel" trope we’ve seen dominate the streaming era—think Glass Onion but with more French pop music and fewer tech bros. While the mystery itself feels a bit like a secondary concern to the cinematography, the sheer charisma of the leads keeps the engine purring.

The Power of a Supporting Auntie

If there’s one thing this sequel gets exactly right, it’s the casting of the "old guard." Allison Janney and Elizabeth Perkins enter the fray as Aunt Linda and Margaret, and their presence elevates the film from a breezy sequel to a masterclass in comedic scene-stealing. Janney, in particular, treats every line of dialogue like a sharpened oyster shuck. Watching her go toe-to-toe with Anna Kendrick’s "mom-vlogger" persona provides some of the sharpest laughs in the script, reminding us that the real thriller isn't the murder—it's navigating a passive-aggressive Italian wedding brunch.

Henry Golding returns as the perpetually confused Sean, and while he’s mostly there to look handsome and be the emotional punching bag for the two women, he leans into his role with a self-deprecating charm that works. The film manages to avoid the "franchise fatigue" that often plagues belated sequels by leaning into its own absurdity. It knows it's a sequel. It knows it's bigger, louder, and more expensive. It doesn’t try to be a "prestige" thriller; it just wants to be the most stylish thing on your screen this weekend.

Aesthetics Over Logic

The costume design by Theodore Shapiro (who also handles the pulse-pounding, retro-styled score) is a character in itself. Emily Nelson is the patron saint of girls who are 'too much,' and her wardrobe in this film—a dizzying array of linen suits, silk scarves, and hats that require their own zip code—is worth the price of admission alone. There are moments where the logic of the mystery sags, especially in the third act when the "twists" start coming so fast they begin to cancel each other out, but the visual feast usually distracts you before you can complain.

In an era where many franchise films feel like they were assembled by an algorithm in a windowless room, Another Simple Favor feels delightfully eccentric. It’s a film that prioritizes a "vibe" over a watertight plot, which might frustrate some, but for those of us who grew up on a diet of Desperate Housewives and Gone Girl, it’s a welcome return to form. It’s a bit overstuffed and the finale is pure camp, but I’d rather have a movie that tries too hard to be fabulous than one that doesn't try at all.

This is the cinematic equivalent of a high-end candle that smells like secrets and expensive laundry detergent—it might not change your life, but it certainly makes the room feel more interesting. Paul Feig successfully navigates the tricky waters of the "legacy sequel" by refusing to take anything too seriously, least of all his protagonists. It’s a neon-soaked, gin-drenched trip that proves that while every friendship has its twists, the best ones usually involve a getaway car and a very good tailor. Go for the chemistry, stay for Allison Janney’s side-eye, and maybe have a drink waiting for you afterward.