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Release Date: U.S. limited theatrical release – July 25, 2025 via Sony Pictures Classics

Runtime: Approximately 94–95 minutes

Rated: R — for sexual content, nudity, and language

Production Companies: Cliffbrook Films, Watermark Media, QWGmire, AmorFortuna (studio side); worldwide distributor: Sony Pictures Classics.

Producers: David Brooks, Dan Clifton, Julie Waters, Sophie Brooks, Molly Gordon

Cinematography: Conor Murphy

Editing: Kayla M. Émter (Kayla Emter)

Music / Composer: Score by Steven Price

Oh, Hi! (2025)

Screenplay / Writers: Sophie Brooks (screenplay); story collaboration between Sophie Brooks and Molly Gordon

Director: Sophie Brooks

Starring: Molly Gordon, Logan Lerman, Geraldine Viswanathan, John Reynolds, David Cross, Polly Draper

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Sophie Brooks’ Oh, Hi! is a whip-smart meditation on the messiness of modern dating and the blurry boundaries between intimacy, miscommunication, and emotional vulnerability. Molly Gordon stars as Iris, a young woman caught in what initially seems like a blossoming relationship with Isaac (Logan Lerman). The two head to a lake house in High Falls, New York, for a romantic weekend getaway. But what begins with flirtation and kink takes a sharp turn as their emotional truths surface—bringing questions of commitment, connection, and control into the spotlight.

Brooks leans on minimal locations and maximal tension, using confined space not only to heighten the drama but to echo the increasingly suffocating dynamic between the characters. As Isaac becomes literally and figuratively trapped, the film explores the emotional labor women are often expected to carry in hetero relationships, and the many unspoken rules that govern modern courtship.

While the premise sounds deceptively simple—a couple retreats into nature and things go awry—the film layers in absurdist humor, magical realism, and surreal flourishes that reflect the desperate ways people, especially young adults, try to make sense of heartbreak and uncertainty today. There’s a potion. There are rituals. There’s nudity. It’s ridiculous—and that’s the point.

Co-written by Brooks and Gordon during the tail end of their own breakups in the pandemic, the script was completed in just under three weeks. You can feel the rawness and urgency baked into every beat. Like other emerging post-COVID works (Eddington by Ari Aster comes to mind), Oh, Hi! is emotionally loud and formally daring—a portrait of pandemic-born disillusionment, intensified by isolation, introspection, and a recalibration of what love even means.

Gordon brings a staggering amount of nuance to Iris, playing her as someone equal parts self-aware and self-destructive. Her ability to toggle between humor and heartbreak—especially as her situation spirals from awkward to alarming—is the engine that powers the film. There’s a darkness that simmers beneath her comedic instincts, allowing Iris to feel deeply human: not “crazy,” just hurt and searching.

Logan Lerman, often cast as the sweet, passive good guy, weaponizes that very persona here. His Isaac is aloof, avoidant, and charming in the worst possible way. His good looks and laid-back demeanor mask a character who’s emotionally slippery—someone who refuses to define the relationship but still wants all the perks. Lerman’s performance is effective precisely because it pushes back against his archetype.

Supporting players Geraldine Viswanathan and John Reynolds bring much-needed levity as Iris’ best friend Max and her boyfriend Kenny. Their chemistry, while light and quirky, introduces an alternate vision of love: one built on shared weirdness and unconditional support. It’s revealed they met on Tinder, yet they represent the most stable bond in the film—offering a subtle counterpoint to the chaos brewing between Iris and Isaac.

What Oh, Hi! ultimately wrestles with is the emotional cost of our “situationship” culture. It’s about the gray areas—where one person’s playfulness is another’s emotional cliff. It’s about the toll of having to guess what your relationship even is, and the micro-dramas that unfold when clarity is withheld for the sake of comfort.

The film also takes a sharp jab at gendered assumptions, particularly how women are portrayed when they express too much or want too deeply. Though heightened for comedic effect, Iris’ behavior mirrors how media—and society at large—often labels women as unhinged for wanting answers, closure, or honesty. Brooks and Gordon confront this directly, using absurdism not to diminish Iris’ arc, but to give it a cathartic release.

Beyond its commentary on romance, the film speaks to the digital age’s distortion of intimacy. The reliance on dating apps, the confusion between emotional availability and actual presence, the loneliness masked by constant connection—these are all undercurrents woven into the story. It asks: what does “talking” even mean anymore? And why are we so afraid to define things?

For those of us who experienced pandemic isolation as a pause and a mirror, Oh, Hi! hits harder. It’s not a film about COVID, but it’s absolutely a product of the emotional echo left in its wake: the burnout, the introspection, the longing for connection that no app or kink or lake house can fix. It doesn’t blame technology outright, but it does suggest that an entire generation’s emotional vocabulary has been scrambled by too many screens and not enough real talk.

At its core, Oh, Hi! isn’t really a rom-com or a drama—it’s a tragicomic confession. It’s a film about how easy it is to feel ridiculous for wanting to be loved and how hard it is to admit you’re not okay when that love doesn’t come.