Friday, August 29, 2025

Winter Spring Summer or Fall: A romantic charmer

Winter Spring Summer or Fall (2024) • View trailer
3.5 stars (out of five). Rated R, for teen drug and alcohol use, and brief profanity
Available via: Amazon Prime and other VOD options
By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 8.31.25

Ever since writer John Hughes started what became a popular sub-genre with Pretty in Pink and Some Kind of Wonderful, back in the late 1980s, one or two similarly witty, dialogue-heavy and sharply observed young romance films — blessed with similarly charismatic stars — have arrived every decade.

 

After initially failing to click, Remi (Jenna Ortega) and Barnes (Percy Hynes White)
gradually begin to enjoy each other's company. But can their relationship survive two
divergent career paths?

Before Sunrise (and its two sequels) and Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist immediately spring to mind.

This one belongs in their company.

 

Dan Schoffer’s cleverly structured narrative — which owes a nod to Alan Alda’s The Four Seasons — is matched by Tiffany Paulsen’s noteworthy feature directorial debut. Her touch is just right with each character, although she’s fortunate that stars Jenna Ortega and Percy Hynes White already share combustible chemistry. 

 

Although films of this sort are by nature fantasies, they work when we become invested in the characters; that happens quickly here.

 

(Fair warning: Viewers inclined toward cynical smirks and rolled eyes are advised to seek their pleasure elsewhere.)

 

High School senior Barnes Hawthorne (Hynes White) spots Remi Aguilar (Ortega) one winter day, while visiting his friend P.J. (Elias Kacavas), who lives across the street from her. P.J. explains that the young woman is super-smart, and has just completed a Google Fellowship interview. Barnes’ expression is thoughtful, his gaze intrigued.

 

Later that day, Barnes and Remi wind up on the same train; he’s attending a concert in New York, and she has an appointment to tour Columbia University. After some initial awkwardness — “I’m not a stalker,” he somewhat ineptly insists — they begin chatting, and share plans following their completion of high school. She intends to attend Harvard and become a lawyer, like her parents; he desires an unspecified gap year.

 

Little realizing that it makes her sound pushy, Remi suggests that he could use the time productively, by volunteering with sea turtles or working with a music group. (She comes by this behavior naturally, as we’ll discover after spending some time with her parents.) Barnes, sensing things aren’t working, counters by extoling the virtues of David Byrne and the Talking Heads.

 

Despite some mildly graceless conversational misfires, Barnes keeps trying. Alas, matters take an unfortunate turn after they disembark, and the already weak connection is severed.

 

Months pass; we rejoin Remi on the day of spring prom, as she’s on the receiving end of unwanted sexual advice from parents Javier (Adam Rodriguez) and Carmen (Marisol Nichols), both oblivious to how much they’re embarrassing their daughter. This quick, blindingly uncomfortable exchange paints both adults as the worst blend of helicoptering and the desire of some parents to be invasive “best friends” with their children.

 

(One hopes Schoffer didn’t write this scene from personal experience.)

 

Remi’s prom date turns out to be unexpectedly aggressive; elsewhere in the packed auditorium, Barnes realizes that his date is using him to re-connect with her former boyfriend. It becomes clear that Remi has very few pals, having been isolated by her “brainiac” status; seeking a friendly face, she spots Barnes.

 

Who hasn’t stopped thinking about her.

 

This time, they click; she admits to having become a rabid Talking Heads fan, and the DJ conveniently chooses that moment to play “Burning Down the House.” When this is followed by a slow song, Barnes — who, we’re realizing, carefully notes her body language — suggests they depart and have dinner at his favorite sushi restaurant.

 

Genuinely surprised by this suggestion, Remi further thaws as she discovers that — contrary to his slacker appearance — Barnes has multitudes.

 

I’ll not describe anything further, except to note that the subsequent sequences take place on July Fourth and Halloween. Aside from the captivating performances and always engaging dynamic between Ortega and Hynes White, this film’s strength is its sweet journeys of discovery: between Remi and Barnes, and also as their expanding personalities are revealed to us viewers.

 

(Both also are recognized from the streaming series Wednesday.)

 

Ortega’s Remi initially is closed off, her wardrobe and bearing a defense mechanism. Even early on, though, a mischievous spark occasionally appears in her gaze; perhaps Remi understands that she needs to loosen up, but isn’t sure how to go about it.

 

Conversely, at first blush Barnes appears to be a budding stoner, but that’s equally deceptive; curiosity and intelligence are visible in his gaze. Hynes White also has an easy, confident smile. As with Ortega, he conveys much via expressive glances, and Paulsen knows how to hold on such moments. Watching each react to what the other says and does, is as organic and persuasive as the dialogue coming from both.

 

Indie musician Evangeline Barrosse further brightens the fourth act. She essentially plays herself, and also supplies four songs thematically appropriate to where they’re used in the film. They share space with Zac Rae’s gentle score.


Very few films could pull off a final scene as corny as the one here, but Paulsen, Schoffer, Ortega and Hynes White have built up so much good will by then, that we smile and roll with it. 

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