Regretting you

Regretting you
Original title:Regretting you
Director:Josh Boone
Release:Cinema
Running time:116 minutes
Release date:24 october 2025
Rating:
Morgan Grant put her dreams on hold to raise her daughter Clara. While they share an unwavering love for each other, everything else divides them: their values, their choices, their way of loving and living. Morgan wants to protect Clara at all costs, even if it means suffocating her. Clara, on the other hand, refuses to follow her mother's path and seeks to break free. But when a brutal tragedy brings to light an unimaginable betrayal, the fragile balance they had built is shattered. In the chaos, Morgan finds unexpected support... from the one person she has kept at a distance for years. Meanwhile, Clara finds herself dangerously close to the boy she has been forbidden to love. Two parallel paths, two hearts in recovery, one truth to face.

Mulder's Review

We went into Regretting You, directed by Colleen Hoover, with cautious expectations of a duel between melodrama and credibility, and came out convinced that we had discovered much more than that: a generous, sincere film that speaks the language of emotions with integrity. From the luminous prologue on a beach to the gentle conclusion, the work defends the idea that love, pain, regret, and second chances can coexist without canceling each other out. Under Josh Boone's clear direction and Susan McMartin's careful adaptation, this conviction becomes the beating heart of the film. What could have turned into a soap opera is transformed here into a fresco on human vulnerability, rejecting both cynicism and sentimentality. When the lights came back on, the applause had that rare tone of emotional relief: that of an audience that has just recognized something true.

The bold choice to have the teenage characters played by their adult counterparts in the prologue proves surprisingly effective. Seeing Allison Williams, Dave Franco, Willa Fitzgerald, and Scott Eastwood travel through time with their own faces creates emotional continuity rather than a mere stylistic effect. From the very first sequence, Josh Boone sets the tone: the inner torments of young people deserve a staging as expansive as their feelings. True to the emotional musicality that carried The Fault in Our Stars, he orchestrates a narrative that bridges the passion of youth and the melancholy of adulthood. Seventeen years pass, but the film's pulse remains the same: a heart beating out of sync with everyday life.

In the present, the drama splits into two harmonious storylines. On one side are the adults: Morgan and Jonah, played with restraint by Allison Williams and Dave Franco, confronted with a tragedy that exposes what they have kept hidden. On the other side are the teenagers: Clara and Miller, played by Mckenna Grace and Mason Thames, two souls on the cusp between loss and discovery. Their tender and modest story breathes life into the whole. We find the same accuracy in the details—a hesitant text message, a date at a suburban movie theater, a Sidney Lumet book on a bedside table—that bring the characters to life beyond archetypes. Mckenna Grace accurately portrays a teenager who hides her pain behind bravado, while Mason Thames strikes a rare balance between gentleness and integrity. Together, they bring the film back to the simple truth of teenage emotions.

What is striking is the way the film lets grief take its course. It is neither polite nor linear: it moves forward in fits and starts, between anger and silence. The double loss that shakes the family breeds lies and misunderstandings, but never through dramatic artifice; everything seems to stem from a sincere attempt to spare others. Allison Williams plays with restrained mastery a woman who has worn the mask of quiet strength for too long, while Dave Franco lends Jonah a weary humanity, full of restrained regrets. Their bond, stripped of all grandiloquence, reveals an adult, patient tenderness that prefers sincerity to spectacle. A recurring memory by the pool, treated like a musical note, becomes the symbol of a shared memory where love does not heal everything, but softens what remains.

The adolescent dimension of the story brings light and breathing space. Mason Thames plays a young man who understands that desire does not mean possession, and Mckenna Grace accompanies him with rare attentiveness. Together, they skirt the line between romance and reality with disarming precision. Then comes Clancy Brown, in a brief but memorable role as a grandfather whose calm wisdom acts as an anchor. Their exchanges bring immediate warmth, a form of humor without irony and emotion without sugarcoating. The film then becomes a space where every glance counts, where tenderness is expressed through tiny gestures rather than thunderous declarations.

Admittedly, Regretting You borrows some of the codes of melodrama—hidden letters, revelations, heavy-handed symbols—but it uses them to talk about ethics rather than destiny. The script refuses to simplify the absent, judge the living, or turn pain into a sentimental carte blanche. Certain areas remain deliberately opaque, and it is in these silences that the film breathes. Josh Boone films North Carolina as a state of mind: the light coming through a window, the lapping of a lake, the house where everything still seems inhabited by those who are no longer there. The emotion builds without ever becoming overwhelming, as if the direction were holding the viewer's hand so as not to crush them under the weight of tears.

Seen in a theater, the film takes on a collective dimension. The audience's reactions become an integral part of the story: a laugh, a gasp, a shared silence. Where other works seek complicity, Regretting You cultivates trust. It dares to be silent where so many dramas give in to discourse. A late scene between mother and daughter illustrates this modesty: words give way to mutual recognition. The audience seems suspended, as if everyone were breathing at the same pace. This rare moment marks the film's success.

The technical work also deserves attention. The soundtrack accompanies the characters' development rather than emphasizing their emotions. The art direction reflects a house's gradual detachment from its past, and the editing balances two tones without either dominating. Even the questionable choice to rejuvenate the characters ultimately fits into the logic of the narrative: it unites youth and maturity in the same emotional present. The whole proves that sincerity can coexist with sophistication, and that risk, when taken in the right place, becomes a form of beauty.

Some will remain allergic to the genre, that's inevitable. Yet Regretting You reminds us that melodrama is not artificial when it speaks the truth. Behind its sweeping gestures, it questions what we do with our losses and how love persists despite everything. Thanks to Allison Williams, Dave Franco, Mckenna Grace, Mason Thames, Willa Fitzgerald, Scott Eastwood, and Clancy Brown, the film gains authenticity with every glance, every silence. When the credits rolled and the applause continued, it wasn't a polite reflex, but a shared impulse. Regretting You is a melodrama that makes no apologies for being one, a romance that exudes truth, and a family story that chooses gentleness as a form of courage.

Regretting You
Directed by Josh Boone
Written by Susan McMartin
Based on Regretting You by Colleen Hoover
Produced by Robert Kulzer, Brunson Green, Anna Todd, Flavia Viotti
Starring Allison Williams, Mckenna Grace, Dave Franco, Mason Thames, Willa Fitzgerald, Scott Eastwood, Clancy Brown
Cinematography: Tim Orr
Edited by Marc Clark, Robb Sullivan
Music by Nathaniel Walcott
Production companies: Paramount Pictures, Constantin Film, Harbinger Pictures, Frayed Pages Entertainment, Heartbones Entertainment
Distributed by Paramount Pictures (worldwide), Constantin Film (Germany)
Release dates: October 12, 2025 (Berlin), October 24, 2025 (United States), October 29, 2025 (France)
Running time: 116 minutes

Seen on October 14, 2025 at UGC Ciné-cité Bercy

Mulder's Mark: