WHEN WE FIRST MET. Approach It With Low Expectations

Comedies about lovable underachievers obsessively trying to win over a girl who sees them only as a friend were once so common that the formula eventually wore thin. For that very reason, When We First Met likely never stood a chance of conquering the theatrical market. But for Netflix—then planning an ambitious slate of dozens of original premieres in 2018—it fit perfectly as a filler title in an ever-expanding release calendar. And in hindsight, there was nothing wrong with that. Even if the film itself resists a clear-cut evaluation, it remains an example of the streaming giant’s commitment to catalog diversity.

At first glance, everything suggests we’re dealing with a romantic comedy—but I deliberately hesitate to fully embrace that label. Yes, there’s a boy hopelessly in love, a girl who considers him her best friend, old movies, jazz, a time machine hidden inside a photo booth, foosball, a Halloween party, and the well-worn rom-com chase for love. Yet there are also repeated failures for the protagonist—failures that, in a traditional romantic comedy, would almost certainly give way to inevitable success. Did I mention the time machine? Released on February 9, 2018, When We First Met was clearly positioned as ideal Valentine’s-at-home entertainment. The only condition: don’t expect too much.

Conceptually, the film blends elements of Groundhog Day and The Butterfly Effect, later throwing in a dash of Hot Tub Time Machine—with the hot tub replaced by a photo booth. There are nods elsewhere, too. It’s hard not to spot playful jabs at Damien Chazelle—or at least to interpret the distinctive drum cues and jazz-bar piano antics as winks toward Whiplash and La La Land. Amid this tangle of recycled motifs and lightly sketched sci-fi logic, the film attempts one maneuver: it repeatedly distances itself from the very genre it appears to represent.

The screenplay—arguably the weakest link—was written by John Whittington (known for The Lego Ninjago Movie and The Lego Batman Movie), while direction was handled by Ari Sandel, who previously won an Academy Award for Best Live Action Short Film for West Bank Story. Sandel’s most recognizable earlier feature, The DUFF, didn’t exactly reinvent teen comedy but satisfied its target audience. Here, he aimed slightly older, walking a fine line between romantic comedy and parody. The balancing act isn’t always consistent, though Adam Devine’s performance does much of the heavy lifting.

The narrative alternates between October 31, 2014—the night Noah meets Avery (played by Alexandra Daddario)—and November 1, 2017, when Noah finds himself dissatisfied with how their relationship has evolved. Without spoiling too much: after a drunken night and a visit to the jazz-bar photo booth where their first (not quite) date took place, Noah wakes up back in 2014. He gets another chance to “do it right,” only to face the consequences three years later when he returns to the present. And so the cycle repeats.

Approaching the film with low expectations—more out of idle Netflix browsing than anticipation—turns out to be the best way to watch it. It’s light, occasionally silly entertainment. Adam Devine leans into his trademark comedic awkwardness, gradually carving out a niche that once might have belonged to someone like Jack Black. Daddario and Robbie Amell function largely as supporting figures (perhaps intentionally so), while Shelley Hennig in a secondary role nearly steals the spotlight.

The difficulty comes when trying to assess the film as a whole. It’s certainly not ambitious, but in the right mood it can be amusing and even dispense a few tongue-in-cheek lessons for anyone stuck in the friend zone. The script is formulaic, though the film spends much of its runtime teasing genre expectations and poking fun at familiar rom-com tropes. Ultimately, however, it feels as though the creators weren’t entirely sure whether they were making a straightforward romantic comedy or a parody of one.

Viewed retrospectively, When We First Met stands as a solid middle-of-the-road entry in Netflix’s early original-film catalog. It brought nothing particularly new to the table, and its time-loop device grows repetitive fairly quickly. Still, fans of the genre likely found it serviceable—especially those who preferred a cozy streaming night over a Valentine’s cinema trip to Fifty Shades Freed. And sometimes, that alone is reason enough.