Before we get down to business, I have a confession to make: I wrote two whole paragraphs of the story you’re reading right now, calling the film “Reminders of Him” by the wrong name. That also means that, despite the title card appearing at the top of the film, I watched all 115 minutes of “Reminders of Him” believing I was watching a movie called “Reminders of Me.” Earlier this week, I believe I even referred to Vanessa Caswill’s film — adapted from Colleen Hoover’s 2022 novel of the same name (or, I guess, some name) — as “Reminders of Us.” It seems as though I’m entirely unsure of who is sparking the titular reminders of this saccharine, ridiculous, and oh-so-delightful melodrama. Though that’s sort of the point.
Movies like this don’t require a memorable title. That you, me, or anyone out there might not be able to correctly name the title of this film — that the title could, ostensibly, be any vague combination of three similar words — is not just part of its charm, but its marketability, as well. The moms, young women and gay men across this great world know exactly what they’re going to be watching when they see a film like “Reminders of Him.” It will be sensationalized. It will be dramatic. It will have a happy ending. The Colleen Hoover-verse is designed to entice the reader or viewer looking for something that feels good and is easily digestible, without necessarily being unique. And, sure, these movies fill time, but they aren’t in the same sphere of background-watching as your average Netflix joint; “The Kissing Booth” has nothing on “Reminders of Him,” in no small part because “Reminders of Him” is actually not half bad.
