The opening scenes totally deliver. We see the moony morning after the night that Jibran and Leilani first slept together — they met at an event while flirting at the crudité table — and the actors generate the kind of connective heat that’s either there or it’s not.
“The Lovebirds” is now a comedy about a murder, and about the two innocents who are terrified that it’s all going to be pinned on them. So even though they’ve done nothing wrong, instead of calling the police they decide to pursue a contact on the bad guy’s cell phone and solve the crime all by themselves. Which may provoke the following reaction: “Huh?”
At first we think that it’s closer to the bone than that, as Jibran and Leilani retreat to a diner, scared as hell, and Jibran tries to burn off the tension with an antsy hilarious monologue about how they always give you the leftover milkshake in that silver container, but why don’t they do the same thing with, you know, spaghetti? For a moment, “The Lovebirds” still carries the heightened air of “Something Wild” or “Widows” or “After Hours” — a tingly caper of ordinary people ignited by...
Watched it last night it was amazing