Netflix’s Valentine’s Day offering “Players” didn’t have anything new to offer to the once lofty rom-com genre that’s long been waiting for a resurrection. The Trish Sie film is too forgettable and predictable to create a dent. But that notwithstanding, it’s still a fun, buoyant watch for a Saturday night that you may want to spend tucked in your pajamas with a glass of wine.
Written by Whit Anderson, “Players” follows Mack/Mackenzie (Gina Rodriguez), a local New York sports reporter who covers games as obscure as chess boxing, and her bunch of journalist friends trying to pick up people at bars and clubs following cues from their thoroughly crafted playbook that they have perfected over the years. The motley group includes two of her college mates: Adam (Damon Wayans Jr.), who covers local politics; Brannagan (Augustus Pew), who writes obituaries; and Brannagan’s younger brother, whom everyone lovingly calls Little (Joel Courtney).
All’s fun and frivolous until Mack catches steam for Nick (Tom Ellis), a war correspondent who has been a Pulitzer finalist, the kind that keeps a framed photo of himself with his parents in his living room, has matching dishes, and attends live classical music performances. The type that, according to Mack, is a rare adult in a sea of children, the type that women freeze their eggs for. And so, the players get together to help Mack land Nick. She does. But. You know the rest already, don’t you?
The trailer of “Players” was strongly reminiscent of “Hitch,” the 2005 Will Smith runaway hit in which he played a “date doctor” who helped incels woo women using his foolproof tricks until they all come to naught when he falls in love. However, the commonalities between the two films are only superficial. In “Hitch,” Smith’s protagonist, Alex, helps his clients begin long-term relationships. But in “Players,” the group is only interested in scoring hook-ups for themselves. Their rule is clear — any potentially long-term relationship is a strict no-play.
Moreover, unlike “Hitch,” “Players” is a buddy film. It’s one of those precious few in which the racial dynamic doesn’t feel forced, a problematic trend that is becoming a worrying norm. Using Black actors to play white characters from popular novels in their screen or stage adaptations has drawn widespread ire of not just their authors but also audiences worldwide. Hermione from “Harry Potter,” Mia Warren from “Little Fires Everywhere,” and Harriet from “Lessons in Chemistry” are just some sorry examples of key characters getting butchered at the altar of the diversity checkbox.
But “Players” makes no such mistake. It establishes early on that its racially diverse lead pack has been thick since college, a time when one’s world isn’t painfully segregated or ideologies cemented. In fact, it’s the film’s central quartet — and Ashley (a charming Liza Koshy) who later joins them — that is its crowning glory. There’s a lived-in quality to their banter, camaraderie, and ease with each other. Be it ride or die, they are together.
Even though Wayans plays yet another version of the same role that he has been getting for eons now, I didn’t mind it so much because his chemistry with Rodriguez is the stuff of rom-com legend. They are crackling together, so good that every scene they are in levitates. So good, they make you want more. But in 105 minutes, you can ask for only so much.
I also like Sie’s certain creative choices that quietly bolster the storytelling. For instance, Mack gets a damning email from Nick while she’s at a match of chess boxing. Each blow and fall is both figurative and literal. Adam arm-twists Mack when needed, but he never handholds her. Or the sage commentary on how love is found not in the shiny but in the everyday. You see it coming from a long way afar, and yet you never stop rooting for it. Good old-fashioned love will always have takers. Even though “Players” has Netflix’s disposable packaging, the stuff inside isn’t so bad.
