Relationships are hard. They can be enriching, beautiful and life-giving, but they can also be exhausting, traumatic and soul-killing. And that’s nowhere more apparent than in a few movies and shows that have come out recently.
It’s been a hot second (and then some) since I was in a serious relationship, but I do make a beeline to the theatres and/or my remote to watch relationship content. It’s always fascinating. Last summer, I saw the two indie rom-com/horror/comedies that hit theatres at the same time, Together and Oh, Hi.. Let me tell you, going to a remote cabin with your partner does not often work out. We’re Having a Very Bad Weekend is practically a genre unto itself, as well as it’s off-shoot My Partner's Family Turns Out to Be Evil (Ready or Not, Get Out, You’re Next). And I love them all.
Over the last few weeks, I’ve watched a few of the more recent entries in those genres and I gotta say: I think we, as a culture, might have some commitment issues that we need to examine and work out. Not everything is metaphor but…everything is metaphor. I don’t think it’s an accident at a time of intense and increasing distance between the races, between the genders, between the ends of the political spectrum, when maintaining personal connections to your neighbors, your friends and family gets harder and harder, when we’re cycling between going no contact and the “let them” theory of family dynamics, that romantic relationship dramas are not only looming large but taking some very dark turns.
It’s also interesting how few traditional rom-coms we’re getting. Not so many meet-cutes. Not so many young, fresh-faced couples overcoming their differences. The movies about couples dominating the landscape right now are the ones about long-standing couples facing their worst selves and their inner demons. Again…nothing is metaphor except everything is metaphor.
So here are a few thoughts and reactions to some of the stuff I’ve seen:
The Drama - Holy cow, this is a fun, dark, weird ride. It’s about a couple, on the eve of their wedding, who get goaded into sharing their darkest secrets by their best man and maid of honor. Emma (Zendaya), the bride, shares something so surprising and upsetting that it sends her partner, Charlie (Robert Pattinson), into a tailspin that threatens to unravel their whole relationship. A lot of digital ink has been spilled already about the racial dynamics at play. Both couples (Emma and Charlie and their best man and maid of honor) are interracial, there’s a racialized aspect to Emma’s secret, the undertones are too pronounced to be accidental (even though both couples were written as white). Emma’s secret is a thorny moral mess as well, the kind of thing that on its surface doesn’t seem that bad, but the longer you think about it, the more upsetting it does become. But the movie is mostly about Emma and Charlie’s inability to talk to each other honestly about it. It’s kind of a classic story: a literal honeymoon period where they haven’t explored the deepest, darkest parts of each other and themselves.
Something Very Bad is Going to Happen - It does what it says on the tin: in nearly every episode, something very bad happens. This Netflix series is again about a young couple on the verge of getting married, who travel to the groom’s remote family estate for what was supposed to be a small, intimate wedding and soon spirals out of control. It plays with the Your Partner’s Family Might Be Evil tropes, but then introduces a novel twist: it’s the bride who’s the problem. She’s got a family curse that says if she doesn’t marry her true love, she will die a painful, awful, bloody death immediately. And if she backs out of the wedding, the curse will be passed to her partner’s family. What follows is a frantic, manic three day scramble to figure out if there’s any way out of the curse or if there’s any way to prove that someone is your true love. It moves fast, it is very, very bloody and very messy and again gets at the core question of any relationship: do you even really know this person? Horror is hard to sustain over several episodes of a television show, but they manage by making each episode its own kind of horror story. Lots of jump scares, lots of shocking reveals and buckets and buckets of blood. If that’s your kind of thing.
Over Your Dead Body - Speaking of horror, this is our sole “comedy” per se. The Drama could definitely be billed as a dark comedy and Something Very Bad is Going to Happen has its yuks (and its yucks), but this is the most straight-up comedy in the bunch. We moves away from the newlyweds to a longstanding couple, Dan and Lisa, who not only have gotten to know each other deeply and intimately, they’ve grown to hate each other even more deeply. So deeply in fact that, during a weekend at a remote cabin (you really need to avoid those folks), they’ve each plotted to kill the other and make it look like an accident. Once they’ve stumbled onto each other’s plots, well, nothing goes as planned for even a second. Damn, it’s funny, smart and, for all of the cynicism, has a real heart in there and a real belief in love (as fucked up as it might be). If you don’t mind a lot of blood, various dismemberments and a dark streak a mile wide, this might actually be a date movie.
Beef (season 2) - This is maybe my most controversial take and longest dive here: I loved Beef season two. I watched in one sitting, without reading any reviews or reactions and then discovered that not only did I seem to be the only person who liked it, I feel like one of very few who even saw it (Note to Netflix: it really helps when you advertise your shows to people). But I think it’s an amazing piece of work, particularly in 2026.
The first season followed two people after a random road rage encounter sparks an escalating war that basically destroys both of their lives. Rather than return to that story, the new season takes the anthology approach and introduces a whole new cast of characters and a whole new, much more complicated issue: relationships.
Season 2 revolves around two couples, middle-aged Josh and Lindsay and young, newly-engaged Austin and Ashley. What links them together, at first, is work; Josh is the GM of a fancy country club outside of LA, Lindsay is a freelance interior designer who works there on and off and enjoys the perks, while Austin and Ashley are both low-level employees (a part-time personal trainer and a beverage cart girl, respectively). The two couples collide when, after a fundraiser at the club, Josh and Lindsay get into a horrific fight and, just when it’s about to turn violent, Ashley and Austin arrive to return the wallet Josh left at work. Ashley records the worst snippet of Josh and Lindsay’s fight before they flee into the night.
What follows is a destructive journey into and through the maze of privilege, power and money. Josh and Lindsay, on the surface, live the upper class life of dreams. They have a big house, nice cars, fancy friends and acquaintances. They have big dreams of turning their home into a high-end bed and breakfast. But all of that is floating on a deep well of resentment and anxiety. While Josh’s position gives him access to the rich and powerful, they never let him forget that he’s essentially an employee (and in some ways, kind of a pet or a mascot). Their own finances are a mess and their marriage has stalled out over the stress.
Meanwhile, Austin and Ashley are the young, idealistic kids we want them to be. Cute, loving, dedicated to each other. They’re scratching by, financially, but they have big dreams. Dreams of being like Josh and Lindsay…or at least like the image that Josh and Lindsay show to the world. Seeing Josh threaten Lindsay with a golf club while they hurl insults at each other is shocking in its own right.
But Ashley also sees an opportunity. A new owner is buying the country club and wouldn’t look kindly on Josh if his outburst became public. So she decides to use the video as leverage to get herself a better position in the club. And that sets off an ever-escalating fight between the two couples.
Beef’s first season was about race, class and privilege, as well, but it was more hidden under the easier-to-identify with road rage incident. I think it was easier (and less psychologically distressing) for people to look at that situation and say, “Yeah, that could be me.” For the second season, they put the underlying issues front and center in ways that, I think, a lot of audiences will find uncomfortable, but I think it’s in a good way.
Who hasn’t felt like they sacrificed their dreams to build a life and then found that, in the end, the dreams might have been worth more? (In one of their songs, my favorite band, The Hold Steady, says, “Dreams, they do cost money, but money costs some dreams.”) Who hasn’t wanted to find a way to get leverage in a system stacked up against you? While the plot machinations may be more baroque, the heart of the show is human, beating and bleeding.
You watch Ashley clumsily blackmail Josh and Lindsay. You then watch Josh turn the tables on Ashley, extorting her in the middle of a medical crisis, offering access to a fancy doctor if she destroys the recording. Both are awful, but both are understandable. You see Austin’s entire faith in his relationship knocked off its axis when Lindsay casually remarks that it’s weird that he and Ashley don’t fight. You see how getting closer to the thing that can give them all of their dreams just makes it worse when the dream slips through their fingers.
Like the first season, there are some pretty wild plot twists. There’s a whole subplot about the club’s new billionaire owner and her Korean plastic surgeon husband that all ask the same questions: what do we want out of relationships and what happens when we don’t get what we want. It’s also funny and beautifully observed. While Josh and Lindsay talk about their youth at Coachella and hanging out with British indie band Hot Chip, Austin and Ashley plan to a celebratory dinner at California Pizza Kitchen.
As we’re all wrangling with an economy that’s falling out from under us as we all still try to keep up the appearances of normalcy, something about this season hits home. And that may be too much for some audiences. I liked it, though, I like it when art says to me, “You are not alone in this feeling.” Beef season 2 said that to me.
I don’t know what all of this taught me about relationships. It certainly didn’t help me swipe my way to love on Hinge. Maybe some of this stuff I’ll need down the line. Either way, it’s a good time to have a good long talk with your partner and make sure you’re on the same page. And don’t go to any remote cabins. Or family weddings. Just to be safe.