Shortcomings (2023)

Shortcomings is special because it dares to make a romantic comedy-drama out of the kind of person movies usually let off the hook: a sharp-tongued, chronically dissatisfied guy whose opinions are louder than his emotional intelligence, and then it watches him squirm into self-awareness. Randall Park’s direction keeps the vibe brisk and contemporary—acerbic, funny, a little uncomfortable—while Adrian Tomine’s screenplay lands like a series of witty jabs that slowly reveal a bruised heart underneath. Justin H. Min gives Ben the kind of specificity that turns irritation into fascination, and Sherry Cola nearly steals the film by bringing warmth, bite, and lived-in humanity to every scene she’s in. It’s not for viewers who need a squeaky-clean, instantly likable lead, but if you can handle an R-rated, wince-and-laugh character study that actually has something to say about attraction and identity, it’s a smart, satisfying watch.

Shortcomings is trying to be a sharp, modern character study about romantic insecurity, cultural identity, and the way self-sabotage can masquerade as “having standards,” and it mostly commits to that uncomfortable honesty. The catch is you’re stuck with a protagonist who’s deliberately abrasive and often exhausting, so if you need someone to root for, this will feel like spending 90 minutes with a guy who thinks cynicism is a personality. The tone is more prickly and messy than cute or cathartic, with comedy that lands as cringe and confrontation rather than crowd-pleasing romance. If you can tolerate flawed people long enough to watch them get quietly exposed, Justin H. Min and Sherry Cola bring enough bite and humanity to make it worthwhile; if you want warmth, charm, or a traditional rom-com arc, skip it.