‘No Hard Feelings’ Proves Jennifer Lawrence’s Charms Have Limits

Photo Illustration by Thomas Levinson/The Daily Beast/Sony Pictures
Photo Illustration by Thomas Levinson/The Daily Beast/Sony Pictures

Not sure what to watch next? Subscribe to The Daily Beast’s Obsessed See Skip newsletter here and get the latest show and movie recommendations every Tuesday.

There are roughly 47,000—oh, wait, a new Netflix Original just dropped; make that 47,001—TV shows and movies coming out each week. At Obsessed, we consider it our social duty to help you see the best and skip the rest.

We’ve already got a variety of in-depth, exclusive coverage on all of your streaming favorites and new releases, but sometimes what you’re looking for is a simple Do or Don’t. That’s why we created See/Skip, to tell you exactly what our writers think you should See and what you can Skip from the past week’s crowded entertainment landscape.

Skip: No Hard Feelings

Jennifer Lawrence and Andrew Feldman sit on a beach during a scene from the movie No Hard Feelings.
Sony Pictures

No Hard Feelings is on an admirable mission to make the raunchy, R-rated sex comedy cool again. But despite Jennifer Lawrence’s innate charisma and clever line deliveries, the film’s antics pull back just when they’re getting good. No hard feelings indeed; this one’s a bit flaccid.

Here’s Nick Schager’s take:

“Once a multiplex staple, the R-rated sex comedy has all but vanished from the American cinematic landscape. Fresh off her well-received performance in last year’s sober PTSD drama Causeway, Jennifer Lawrence aims to resurrect the bawdy subgenre with No Hard Feelings, a smutty lark that ably proves her movie-star magnetism. No amount of marquee charisma, however, can salvage Jury Duty co-creator Gene Stupnitsky’s flaccid feature film, which exhibits a superficial interest in ribald revelry and yet, in most respects, neuters its wilder impulses.

Jennifer Lawrence’s R-Rated Comedy ‘No Hard Feelings’ Is Not the Wild Romp You Hoped For

On the surface, there’s nothing restrained about Maddie Barker (Lawrence), a lifelong resident of beautiful Montauk, Long Island, whose quiet and quaint atmosphere has—to her great annoyance—been ruined by an influx of snobby upper-crust outsiders. Encountering one such prick at the waterfront bar where she works, Maddie is outright combative, underlining her brash take-no-shit attitude. When not tussling with strangers who rub her the wrong way, she lives alone in her deceased mother’s house, albeit potentially not for long; due to overdue taxes, she’s on the verge of losing the place.”

Read more

See: And Just Like That Season 2

Ivan Hernandez and Sarah Jessica Parker in a bedroom during a scene from And Just Like That Season 2.
Craig Blankenhorn/Max

And Just Like That Season 2 is a near-total course correction from the SATC spinoff’s first season. Time has smoothed its jagged edges, and allowed Carrie Bradshaw and company to act more like humans, and less like very fashionable extraterrestrials.

Here’s Coleman Spilde’s take:

“From the moment that Carrie Bradshaw’s (Sarah Jessica Parker) ‘Big’ love keeled over from a heart attack in the series premiere, it was clear that And Just Like That, Max’s continuation of Sex and the City, was going to be a very different animal than its predecessor. After all, the HBO show’s six seasons and two feature film follow-ups were essentially spent toying with the “will-they-won’t-they” of Carrie and Big’s perennially on-again, off-again relationship. Big’s death shook the story in such a way that would forever change the dynamic of the Sex and the City universe.

‘And Just like That,’ Everything Is Better in Season 2—Even Che Diaz

It turns out that—like Carrie herself, as she mourned the death of her husband—all And Just Like That… really needed was time. In its second season, which premieres June 22 on Max, And Just Like That… skips down the list of everything that was off, underwritten, or just plain inconceivably bad about the first season, correcting them one by one. The characters are no longer hyper-focused on losing their fourth best friend, Kim Cattrall’s Samantha Jones. Carrie, Miranda (Nixon), and Charlotte (Kristin Davis) spend far less time languishing in their own subplots and more of the season finding their strength together. And perhaps the most shocking change of all: Those new tertiary characters are now downright lovable—yes, even Che Diaz (Sara Ramirez)!”

Read more.

See: The Bear Season 2

Ayo Ebebiri and Jeremy Allen White cook in a kitchen during a scene from The Bear Season 2.
Chuck Hodes/FX

The Bear Season 2 replicates the show’s dynamic first-season energy, without serving up more of the same. A tighter focus on secondary characters elevates the series, without losing all of that service industry pandemonium lurking just out of frame.

Here’s Fletcher Peters’ take:

“Nothing compares to a frosty beer on a warm summer day. Or, perhaps, a beef sub dripping with salty au jus. Although The Bear takes place in the scrape-ice-off-your-car thick of winter Chicago, the series is now officially a summer show, TV’s version of a refreshing beverage on a sweltering June afternoon. Just two seasons in, FX's The Bear has quickly become a summer tradition: Every summer, we’ll be desperate to binge a new season of the perfect Hulu show, a plastic quart container of ice water in one hand and an Italian beef sandwich in the other.

‘The Bear’ Season 2 Is So Good and Avoids the Sophomore Slump

Creator Christopher Storer’s fast-paced restaurant dramedy returns almost exactly one year after its series premiere with a second season that is just as fresh as, if not improved over, the original episodes. The first season became a massive hit in 2022 thanks to catchphrases like ‘YES, CHEF,’ stellar performances from Jeremy Allen White and Ayo Edebiri, and a jaw-dropping single-take episode that sent viewers flying through the halls of a messy kitchen. All those delights and more are back for Season 2, which, in the first four episodes provided to press, takes a slight departure from Carmy Berzatto’s (White) point of view.”

Read more.

See: Glamorous

Chiquitita, Serena Tea, Priyanka, Kim Cattrall and Miss Benny appear in a scene from Netflix’s Glamorous show.
Amanda Matlovich/Netflix

Glamorous gives Kim Cattrall another deservedly glitzy role as a beauty empire maven, but one that spotlight’s her warmth as a performer, in an amusing and sexy series that’s destined to show a new generation how easy it is to fall in love with her.

Here’s Kevin Fallon’s take:

Glamorous is one of the most queer-positive shows I’ve seen, which is long overdue for a series like this one. In the vein of Younger, Emily in Paris, and The Bold Type, the show is a fantasy portrayal of glitzy cosmopolitan life, the kind that has been embraced by LGBT+ audiences. The show’s Ugly Betty-like vibes warm my millennial heart. And there are times when I felt like Glamorous was more reminiscent of old-school SATC than AJLT is.

Kim Cattrall Is Back Playing Samantha—Just Not in ‘And Just Like That’

It’s also, regardless of tabloid drama, a treat to watch Cattrall in another role as suited for her as Samantha was on SATC. Madolyn isn’t outwardly sexual in the way that Sam was, but she wears the same assuredness as a mask for her vulnerability; that Madalyn heads a successful makeup company, then, is an apt metaphor. There was a moment when Cattrall, as Madolyn, raises her arms, tilts her head, and smirks, while raising her shoulders. It was so Samantha to me, and it made me so happy to see it that, truthfully, I was taken aback by my own reaction.”

Read more.

Sign up for our See Skip newsletter here to find out which new shows and movies are worth watching, and which aren’t.

Read more at The Daily Beast.

Get the Daily Beast's biggest scoops and scandals delivered right to your inbox. Sign up now.

Stay informed and gain unlimited access to the Daily Beast's unmatched reporting. Subscribe now.