You, Me & Her
A couple whose marriage has reached a dull plateau takes a trip to Mexico and start to think having a threesome might liven things up.
Mags and Ash are a classic odd couple. She’s disciplined and pragmatic, working in high finance with her domineering dad. He is a dreamer with plans to launch a legal marijuana distribution company, based on his own fervent love for the weed. She’s Mexican-American (though presents as a white blonde lady) and his roots are in India.
They’ve been together for 10 years, married for two, and have an adorable little dude at home. They also do well enough — mostly off Max’s income — to live comfortably in Los Angeles and even afford an au pair to watch their kid most of the time. Rut-time has entered their life, and their relationship is more a cautious dance of resentments and navigation than genuine affection.
They decide to take a trip down to San Poncho, Mexico on their own for a few days of adventure. They also start to toy with the idea of spicing up their sex life by possibly bringing other people into their bed.
That’s the premise of “You, Me & Her,” a romantic comedy starring Ritesh Rajan and Selina Ringel, who also wrote the screenplay and produced the film, directed by Dan Levy Dagerman.
The tone starts out as fun and carefree, but notes of more dramatic themes gradually creep into the story. Though Mags (Ringel) and Ash (Rajan) have a convivial banter about them, there’s a tendency to take sharp little digs at each other over every little thing.
Lately careers are the top stressor on their minds. She can’t stand working for her dad anymore because of his tendency to dismiss her ideas. Meanwhile, Ash is waiting on the first payment for a big weed deal he’s just signed, and is worried with each day that goes by without it hitting their bank account. He’s even paying for the trip to Mexico as a celebration of his long-chased success.
Ash feels like Mags regards him as a screw-up, and in turn she doesn’t like playing the role of scold and critic. Things aren’t bad between them, but they seem headed for a long slide.
Ash also smokes pot. A lot. Like he can’t even be in Mexico for a few days without scoring some weed, which is a pretty dangerous thing to do. At first, I thought the title of the film referred to Ash’s obsession with Mary Jane.
Turns out it actually means Angela (Sydney Park), an exotic woman Mags encounters teaching yoga on the beach near their resort. She’s instantly smitten by her, and the interest seems to be returned. Ash is all-in on trying out a threesome. Things don’t work out the way of a tryst in Mexico, but Angela turns up again in L.A. and they rekindle the notion of a three-way.
There’s a little bit of nudity and sex in the movie, but overall it’s more of a tease than truly erotic. It’s mainstream folks dipping a toe into kinky stuff, and plays like a square movie pretending to be daring.
There are a few decent laughs here and there, mostly zingy barbs and one-liners in the dialogue. The storytelling is pretty conventional and often sitcom-y.
You could do worse than a one-night stand watching “You, Me & Her.” But it’s not he sort of moviemaking you’ll have a long and meaningful relationship with.