MOLLI AND MAX IN THE FUTURE - Mark Reviews Movies

Molli and Max in the Future, Level 33

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Review by Mark Dujsik | February 8, 2024

Things may change on a superficial level, but deep down, they still stay the same. That's pretty much the thesis of Molli and Max in the Future, a romantic comedy set in a distant future of intergalactic space travel, universal government, alliances and wars between sentient species from different planets, and almost-certain doom on the horizon. So much wonder and so many reasons for worry are out there, but our eponymous protagonists are just trying to fit in and find love amidst it all.

There's something both comforting and a bit unsettling about this idea, which means it's probably an accurate one. It's definitely a source of fine humor and substantial imagination for writer/director Michael Lukk Litwak, who makes his feature debut with a weird and entertaining piece of clever storytelling and do-it-yourself innovation.

The whole of the film makes extensive use of green screen, which lets its characters travel to different planets, mysterious dimensions, and into virtual worlds of recreation and memory. The visual effects here are impressive, and that's not only because they're so prevalent, present so many diverse worlds, and clearly made on what must have been a tight budget.

That's also because Litwak knows they're mainly here to serve as an amusing juxtaposition for how ordinary his story is. It's about two people who meet by chance, spend years separating and reuniting, form a deep bond along the way, and can't figure out or doubt that they're probably imperfectly perfect for each other.

It's the stuff of romantic comedies for decades, and there's no real exception to the narrative formula in this instance. That's what makes it so charming, though. It's more than a little hopeful that humans—or human-alien hybrids or aliens or a floating-head wizard with a bunch of tentacles—all want the same thing and likely will continue to do so—regardless of how technologically advanced the universe's inhabitants may become, how many wars and plagues and awful politicians might arise, and how close to devastation we all could be.

Mostly, the dichotomy between such an ordinary plot and all of these varied worlds is just absurdly funny. Take, for example, how Molli (Zosia Mamet) meets Max (Aristotle Athari). She's flying through space, searching for some magical crystals, when his home-built spacecraft almost collides with hers, sending his flying into an asteroid. Max is ejected straight into Molli's windshield, and after the two bicker about insurance and how irresponsible the other is, they spend some time, bickering and bantering some more, on the planet Megalopolis, which is one giant city.

The marvels of this world, as well as the multiple others that come into this story, are right where they need to be: in the background. The focus is entirely on Molli and Max, who are clearly two actors standing in front of a screen, but what does that matter? Mamet and Athari make for engaging romantic leads.

There might even be something a bit subversive in how Litwak channels that chemistry, makes both of these characters the insecure and self-involved archetypes of so many romantic comedies, and gives them dialogue that's both recognizably modern and nonsensically filled with futuristic lingo. Does it really matter what the characters in such a story have to say, or is the back-and-forth bonding between them that really matters? Are the specifics of Max becoming a famous mech fighter and Molli finding herself in a space cult important, or is their separation just a necessity of the formula? Is there any degree of strangeness that will prevent us from recognizing that formula, or does the whole, comforting point of such material transcend even the wackiest of developments and details?

If Litwak has any of these questions in mind, he uses them as a sort of challenge. The planet-hopping, time-jumping, and dimension-spanning narrative does become, well, very odd. Max, who's half-human and half-fish-person, finds himself on his home planet of Oceananus, where his dad wants him to follow the way of the fish people and become a sell-out rock musician. Molli does end up in a cult, led by the floating head Moebius (Okieriete Onaodowan), a millennia-old entity who's as keen on genocide as he is eerily skilled at gaslighting.

As Max and Molli find themselves together and at assorted crossroads again, a reality show-like election campaign is happening, pitting a dull but sincere human woman (played by Aparna Nancherla) against an oblivion-worshipping wannabe tyrant named Turboschmuck (Michael Chernus). Some want to vote for the latter because they think he "speaks his mind," and others are convinced he won't bring forth a massive black hole to devour the entire universe—no matter how many times he says that's exactly what he wants to do.

The film is filled with such specifically satirical jokes (There's a running gag that the black hole could be stopped if people stopped consuming cheese, but who wants to give up something so nice?) and other, broader forms of comedy (The cast features a deep bench of some familiar and lesser-known comedians, and some behind-the-scenes footage during the credits suggests a lot of improvising on set). It's generally and consistently funny, as well as inspired in some particular bits, such as when Molli and Max create a parallel dimension to see how a romance between them would go or when Max finds himself in a quantum dimension where everything and its opposite happens at once.

Through all of this, though, Molli and Max in the Future does serve as a sweet and smart romantic comedy. It may look as if a lot is superficially changed within that genre here, but the film makes a few good points by staying the same at its heart.

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