On the surface, Only You is a tender love story about issues of infertility, with naturalistic performances from the co-leads. You don't need to dig much deeper to realise that there is nothing much else to this film, other than disturbing reinforcements of bourgeois values.
The film centres around Elena, an attractive Spanish woman in her mid-30s living in Glasgow, who embarks on a whirlwind romance with Jake, a man nearly 10 years younger than her. They awkwardly meet when trying to hail the same taxi and end up at Elena's house, flirting and making out. In a matter of days, Jake's moving in with her before she's had the chance to introduce him to her friends, declaring that he's hopelessly in love and proposing to have her baby. Alarm bells? This is not that kind of film. Elena doesn't question Jake's naive and clingy behaviour, going along with his romantic inclinations instead.
We then slowly discover that Elena probably can't have children and the film seems to get stuck in endless, mundane routines of pregnancy tests and IVF treatment, but Jake is unrelenting in his determination to have a child. The tension puts unbearable pressure on their relationship and leads to an inevitable breaking point. This may sound like the basis of good drama but plays out as a series of petty arguments and mind-numbingly boring inaction.
The director said she wanted to address the taboos around infertility and subvert stereotypes but she fails on both counts. Elena and Jake are hopelessly one-dimensional characters that seem almost completely incapable of dealing with their self-induced problem. Jake is portrayed as a sensitive, caring kind of guy, but he turns out to be an insecure man-child who sulks and throws his toys out of the pram when life doesn't meet his ideals. Elena seems desperate to keep up with all her friends who are getting hitched and having babies, appearing to believe that no man would want to be with her if she's barren. Neither character is explored outside of their relationship - because why would they need personal interests and ambitions when they've got each other? They come across as hollow shells. Jake initially introduces himself as a DJ, but his lack of charisma and posh naivety would suggest otherwise. His love of an Elvis Costello record is the sole supporting evidence of this unlikely pastime.
But the worst thing about this film is that Jake's questionable attitude towards infertility is condoned. He pushes Elena into having a baby, does not accept any other outcome, and becomes completely unsympathetic to what she's having to deal with. Having declared his undying love to her, it becomes quite clear that his love isn't unconditional. Yet when Elena breaks up with him her decision is framed as rash and impulsive. She soon grovels to him to come back, when surely he should be the one apologising and trying to make amends. For a film directed by a woman dealing with female taboos, it all feels strangely anti-feminist and sends out the wrong message. 'Only You' seems to take on an unintended meaning punctuated by a question mark. Ideas of adoption, or more pertinently, being single is unthinkable in this sketchy universe.
Even more unbelievable than the film's misguided story is the universal acclaim it's received. Glowing reviews across the board, including Mark Kermode and Peter Bradshaw and a 96% rating on Rotten Tomatoes is why it ended up on my watchlist. Its success seems to suggest that normie culture is alive and well because this film does more to establish conventional notions of the status quo than its director would like to believe.
The film centres around Elena, an attractive Spanish woman in her mid-30s living in Glasgow, who embarks on a whirlwind romance with Jake, a man nearly 10 years younger than her. They awkwardly meet when trying to hail the same taxi and end up at Elena's house, flirting and making out. In a matter of days, Jake's moving in with her before she's had the chance to introduce him to her friends, declaring that he's hopelessly in love and proposing to have her baby. Alarm bells? This is not that kind of film. Elena doesn't question Jake's naive and clingy behaviour, going along with his romantic inclinations instead.
We then slowly discover that Elena probably can't have children and the film seems to get stuck in endless, mundane routines of pregnancy tests and IVF treatment, but Jake is unrelenting in his determination to have a child. The tension puts unbearable pressure on their relationship and leads to an inevitable breaking point. This may sound like the basis of good drama but plays out as a series of petty arguments and mind-numbingly boring inaction.
The director said she wanted to address the taboos around infertility and subvert stereotypes but she fails on both counts. Elena and Jake are hopelessly one-dimensional characters that seem almost completely incapable of dealing with their self-induced problem. Jake is portrayed as a sensitive, caring kind of guy, but he turns out to be an insecure man-child who sulks and throws his toys out of the pram when life doesn't meet his ideals. Elena seems desperate to keep up with all her friends who are getting hitched and having babies, appearing to believe that no man would want to be with her if she's barren. Neither character is explored outside of their relationship - because why would they need personal interests and ambitions when they've got each other? They come across as hollow shells. Jake initially introduces himself as a DJ, but his lack of charisma and posh naivety would suggest otherwise. His love of an Elvis Costello record is the sole supporting evidence of this unlikely pastime.
But the worst thing about this film is that Jake's questionable attitude towards infertility is condoned. He pushes Elena into having a baby, does not accept any other outcome, and becomes completely unsympathetic to what she's having to deal with. Having declared his undying love to her, it becomes quite clear that his love isn't unconditional. Yet when Elena breaks up with him her decision is framed as rash and impulsive. She soon grovels to him to come back, when surely he should be the one apologising and trying to make amends. For a film directed by a woman dealing with female taboos, it all feels strangely anti-feminist and sends out the wrong message. 'Only You' seems to take on an unintended meaning punctuated by a question mark. Ideas of adoption, or more pertinently, being single is unthinkable in this sketchy universe.
Even more unbelievable than the film's misguided story is the universal acclaim it's received. Glowing reviews across the board, including Mark Kermode and Peter Bradshaw and a 96% rating on Rotten Tomatoes is why it ended up on my watchlist. Its success seems to suggest that normie culture is alive and well because this film does more to establish conventional notions of the status quo than its director would like to believe.
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