The Hating Game(available on Amazon by VOD)
Starring Lucy Hale and Austin Stowell
Directed by Peter Hutchings
Rating: ** ½
The best thing about The Hating Game is that it is not apologetic about its triteness. For a film about pretence, it is a surprisingly unpretentious oldfashioned yarn about two dementedly goodlooking professionals pretending to hate each other while all along they secretly have the hots for one another.
Lucy Hale, oven-fresh from her success on American television plays Lucy Hutton , a stunningly scrubbed and squeaky-clean singleton determined to make her way up the corporate ladder in her publishing firm in spite of the opposition from her nemesis Joshua Templeman, played with stoic manliness by Austin Stowell who , in the grandest romantic tradition, does everything to rile Lucy from mimicking her desk-top habits to kissing her passionately in the lift
“You can report me to the HR, if you want,” he mumbles with risible righteousness.
Lucy looks at Joshua daggers drawn(lingerie moistened) as if she would rather report him for not going far enough. If truth be told, when push came to shove pun decidedly intended—and Lucky got down to what she refers to as ‘naked activities’.Joshua chickened out.
For a second I thought, hey hang on,is Joshua gay?
Banish all the dark thoughts and bring out those rose-tinted glasses. The Hating Game is as sunny as they….umm…come. This is a trolley-travel over a sleek space for two attractive swingers waiting to hit the sack…the go-ahead flag is waved a little later than you expect. Until then Joshua and Lucy fight and make-up, make-up and fight… Their behaviour is ridiculously improper for the workplace, and their juvenile games of one upmanship would be nauseating were it not so cute.
But here is the thing: Hale and Stowell look so much like a real couple pretending to be at loggerheads that we cannot wait to see them sort out their silly misunderstandings and get on with what they are so obviously created to do: make beautiful babies. But before that there is utterly uncalled-for visit to Joshua’s home for his brother’s wedding where Joshua must confront the demon from his past: his father.
By the time the family crisis is resolved Hale and Stowell look like they would burst out of their respective clothings with hormonal anxiety.
In spite of the sheer pedestrianism of the proceedings, the air crackles with physical tension in The Hating Game. There is nothing even remotely unexplored in this romantic territory. But it is all done as a dutifully beautifully titivated romantic cliché. Barbara Cartland must be smiling from heaven.
