Chemical Hearts Review: A Few Ingredients Shy of Positive Reaction
As a chronic lover of anything based in the teen genre world, the concept of Chemical Hearts was beyond my most wild inner adolescent fueled dreams.
Not only is it an adaptation of Krystal Sutherlands “Our Chemical Hearts” — one of the rawest, complicated teen novels I’ve read thus far, it’s executive produced and starred in by arguably Riverdale’s biggest breakout talent — Lili Reinhart.
The film has every ingredient needed for an acclaimed teen rom-com hit: a great cast, excellent source material, lovely cinematography, and a complicated heroine that subverts typical genre tropes.
It should be a slam dunk, which makes it even more unbelievably disappointing when those ingredients don’t fully come together into something beautiful.
The film isn’t a total failure — Reinhart’s portrayal of Grace Town alone is everything source novel novices could ask for. She is complex, flawed, perplexing, and a complete invert of a typical female lead.
The best part of Reinhart’s performance is her commitment to the role. She isn’t ever afraid to be unlikable or ugly, especially in Grace’s darkest scenes.
No, Reinhart is clearly more focused on bringing Town — a traumatized and shattered shell of a girl — to life, than she is at creating a picturesque love interest for protagonist Henry. The film’s climax in particular, where Grace is found wading a pool, dressed in a wedding gown to pay tribute to her now-dead boyfriend, is possibly Reinhart’s best scene to date.
It’s a scene where both Henry and the audience fully grasp the pain behind Grace’s trauma, and the reality of her losing battle against internal suffering. Reinhart couldn’t nail the moment better if she tried, but the same can be said for every minute she’s on-screen as Grace.
I hesitate to compare a film to its source novel, because it’s incredibly rare movies ever live up to the original written version. Still, Chemical Hearts fails to expand in ways it desperately needs, and relies too much on Reinhart’s acting ability to tell the story.
Novel Grace is a ticking time bomb — a slow spiraling girl whose grief resembles quicksand. The longer and harder she tries to escape the reality of her pain, the worse off she becomes, and the harder Henry tries to fix her.
By losing some key scenes of the novel (which I won’t spoil, because if you haven’t read the book, you should go do so immediately), the film also loses the entirety of Henry’s narrative, and relativity to the plot.
Instead of playing foil to Grace, Henry becomes a boy on the verge of obsession over a girl he barely knows. He’s meant to be the antithesis of Grace — the well-balanced never-been-in-love kid to the juxtaposition of her see-what-love-can-do-to you spirit.
That clashing perspective, merging with the realization these two would be perfect together under different circumstances, is what makes Grace and Henry’s story so compelling. The emotional stakes are raised, and when both characters finally recognize they can’t be together, the payoff is absolute and guttural heartbreak.
All of that nuance is lost in the film, and lack of story depth turns Henry into a one-dimensional cardboard cutout; especially next to Reinhart’s deeply complex Grace. By the film’s end, you desperately want Grace to find her way back to herself, but you really don’t care about Henry’s part in everything.
For a teen romance — that’s kind of missing the point.
The film gives Henry so little to do, his role is more or less reduced to following Grace around, and gluing broken vases back together. Stalker like behavior and strange hobbies actually make sense when Henry is a well-rounded character with his own narrative and background; not quite so much when there’s nothing else to him.
Chemical Hearts is already at a disadvantage by not living inside Henry’s mind, but it loses even more gravitas when it takes no time in developing Henry’s relationship with his friends. Friends who are excellent novel characters, by the way, and act as routine sounding boards for his ever-evolving and confusing feelings for Grace.
Abram’s does what he can with the role, but the focus on his character is too flimsy to keep things balanced against Reinhart’s revelatory Grace. Their lopsided presence makes it hard to believe these two would ever find each other in the first place, let alone fall in love.
There are montages, of course; an indie soundtrack plays over cute moments between Grace and Henry as they bond over things like poetry and music. It’s meant to garner a connection between the two characters, but fails to evoke any real investment in the relationship, and leaves the remainder of their scenes falling flat.
The exception to the rule is when Abram’s Henry is forced to deal with Grace’s spiraling behavior, and the movie gives flashes of would-be potential. Reinhart’s brash force inevitably forces Abrams to rise to the occasion, and in turn, Henry comes alive as well.
Unfortunately, this happens far too late in the film, and far too rarely, for it to make any substantial difference.
Chemical Hearts feels wrought with missed opportunities; it’s a film on the brink of being something truly poignant, but doesn’t pack the punch needed to reach it’s fullest potential.
It is, however, a film with a female lead who isn’t afraid to be imperfect. Reinhart revels in all of Grace’s grief, accessing raw emotions that showcase how inherently flawed — but painstakingly real — a character like Grace Town truly is.
At it’s worst, Chemical Hearts is a film with a flimsy one-note male protagonist who stalks a girl who’s wrong for him. At it’s best, it’s a film that allows women to be complicated, broken, and unlikable. Most importantly, it’s unafraid to let those women walk away just as messy, with zero unrealistic notions of a boy being able to pick up all their shattered pieces.
Chemical Hearts lets women save themselves, and that’s just about the most important story any film can tell.
What did you think of Chemical Hearts? Share your thoughts in the comments below!
Critic Rating:
User Rating:
Chemical Hearts is available to stream on Amazon Prime.
Follow us on Twitter and on 
Instagram!
Want more from Tell-Tale TV? Subscribe to our newsletter here!
Kat Pettibone
Kat Pettibone is an aspiring TV writer, artist, and poet. As a Pacey Witter Fan Club lifer who never missed a TGIF, she has dreams of becoming your generations small screen Nora Ephron. She's also an avid lover of coffee, dogs and all things spooky.