Press Play (2022)

Press Play has a rare kind of sweetness: it treats young love and the music that scores it with such sincerity that the time-travel hook feels less like a gimmick and more like a heartbeat. Set against sunlit Hawaii and the cozy vinyl-and-cassette glow of a record-store romance, the film hums with indie-pop warmth, letting songs become portals not just through time, but through memory and regret. Clara Rugaard anchors it beautifully, giving Laura the kind of emotional clarity that makes even the most fantastical turns feel grounded, while Lewis Pullman brings an easy, lived-in charm that sells the connection. If you’re allergic to sentimental romances or prefer hard sci-fi rules, this may be too tender and soft-edged—but if you want a wistful, music-soaked love story with an ending that earns its feelings, it’s an easy press play.

Press Play wants to be a tender, music-soaked romance with a clever time-loop twist, using a mixtape as an emotional and sci-fi engine for grief and second chances. The problem is the execution doesn’t match the hook: it can feel repetitive and oddly rushed, with big emotional beats that don’t always land because the writing and character development are thinner than the premise deserves. Despite the music-centered setup, the soundtrack and “mixtape magic” often register more as a plot device than something that truly sings, which makes the whole experience feel a bit forgettable. If you’re craving a tightly written, deeply moving time-travel romance, this may frustrate you—but if you’re fine with a soft, PG-13, low-stakes tearjerker carried by likeable leads and a sweet intention, it can still be an easy watch.