Directed by Sarah Sherman and Zachary Ray Sherman
Written by Sarah Sherman
Starring Anjini Taneja Azhar, Quinn Liebling, and Alex Jarmon
Unrated – mild language, references to teen sex
Runtime: 1 hour 35 minutes
Available for digital rental

by Audrey Callerstrom, Staff Writer

Young Hearts has the purest of intentions. Set in autumn in Portland, outdoor scenes have a colorful, orange warmth to them. A young couple in love, Harper (Anjini Taneja Azhar) and Tilly (Quinn Liebling) wrestle among freshly fallen leaves as sun rays peek through the clouds. Young Hearts was written by Portland native Sarah Sherman, and directed by Sherman and her brother, Zachary Ray. I expect that they wanted to create a sweet and affecting account of kids these days, played by actual kids, who talk like actual kids. Their conversations are full of awkward pauses and peppered with ums and likes and yeahs. They are as unsure in their skin as we would expect them to be. But in spite of these endearing qualities, and two capable lead actors, the film as a whole is dull and flat and lacks energy.

Young Hearts doesn’t spend much time with any individual character before the central conflict, such that is it, plays into motion. Harper is a freshman, one grade behind her brother, Adam (Alex Jarmon). Starting in high school brings Harper into the fold with her brother’s circle of friends, including the gentle Tilly (Quinn Liebling). Harper and Tilly have an instant attraction, flirting awkwardly as they walk home from school (Tilly lives across the street). Tilly invites Harper to his room to show her something, but his intentions are innocent–he has a leaf collection that he keeps in a tin. Harper meanwhile talks about feminism, as she understands it, as well as the struggle of women in India, where Harper was born. The young couple drift toward each other and are soon dating and having sex.

It’s worth noting that teen sex in movies has drifted from the morality tales of the ‘90s, where any sex was certain to end in pregnancy or disease or other catastrophe. Although the sex here is off-screen, it’s presented more as a matter of fact. It’s a shame, then, that the film’s script had no other ideas to introduce conflict than to have Harper be branded a “slut” at school, while Tilly experiences no repercussions. This basic framework–and the conflict that results between Tilly and Adam–makes this film feel less than contemporary. Press materials claims this is a tale for a MeToo area, which seems more like a marketing ploy than a statement with any meaning.

Young Hearts was produced by the Duplass Brothers. Mark Duplass remarks that the film has a quiet sweetness to it (it does) and that it has “the special ability to show us something that we haven’t seen before.” I guess if “something we haven’t seen before” was a boring and bland tale about non-descript kids falling in love and walking through gorgeous Portland, then yes, that is certainly something I haven’t seen before. But the characters have no sense of individuality, and the script never bothers giving anyone a single unique trait. Their parents show up in the film for no reason at all, only to serve as a reminder that the kids do, in fact, have parents. Tilly’s mother is dead, a fact that is glossed over as soon as it comes up. It’s hard to care about anything these kids do when none of them is any different than the other.

There are other films about youth that do this formula better. It may not have any romance in it, but Bo Burnham’s Eighth Grade is an earnest and heartbreaking portrayal of youth, following the shy and anxious Kayla (Elsie Fisher) as she navigates her last year of junior high.  For a better film with the “you’re dating my sibling” conflict, Edge of Seventeen is funny and sweet and has strong performances from Hailee Steinfeld, Haley Lu Richardson, and Woody Harrelson. Skip Young Hearts and pursue those coming-of-age films instead.

Eighth Grade is available to watch on Amazon Prime and Hulu. Edge of Seventeen is available to watch on Netflix.