Things Like This Review: Two Zacks and a World of Insecurity

Romantic comedies often operate on a comforting logic, a world where chance encounters feel less like random occurrences and more like the machinations of destiny. It’s a narrative structure as old as the genre, but one that finds new life when viewed through a specific, modern lens.

The indie film Things Like This leans directly into this idea, presenting a premise that feels both classic and refreshingly sincere. The film introduces us to two men, both named Zack, navigating their own quiet disappointments in the sprawling backdrop of New York City.

Their lives run on parallel tracks of dissatisfaction. Zack Anthony, brought to life with earnest energy by writer-director Max Talisman, is an aspiring fantasy novelist with a completed manuscript but a life stuck in neutral. His creative spirit is consistently dampened by persistent, internalized self-doubt about his worth.

Simultaneously, Zack Mandel (Joey Pollari) is grinding away as a talent agency assistant, feeling perpetually unseen in a job that underutilizes him and emotionally adrift in a relationship that offers stability but no real connection.

When their paths finally cross during a crowded industry showcase, the spark is immediate, built on the amusing coincidence of their shared name. This single meeting feels like a glitch in their mundane routines, initiating the story’s central query: Are they simply two people hitting it off, or are their intersecting lives proof of a much grander design at play?

Character Flaws as Core Mechanics

The primary conflict in Things Like This isn’t driven by an external villain, but rather by the internal battles waged by its two protagonists. Their personal insecurities function as the story’s core mechanics, dictating every choice and interaction with the authenticity of a well-developed character study.

Zack Anthony is charismatic and genuinely creative, a man whose joyful personality should be his defining feature. Yet, he’s burdened by a crippling lack of confidence related to his physical appearance, a “debuff” that is painfully established in the film’s opening scene following a heartless one-night stand.

This single stat check negatively affects all others, stalling his writing career and convincing him he is fundamentally unworthy of the lasting love he secretly craves. His narrative arc is not about finding a publisher; it is about overcoming this internal obstacle. He leans heavily on his best friend Kenny, a supportive character who provides the necessary tough love to nudge him past his self-imposed barriers.

Across town, Zack Mandel faces a different, though equally potent, set of obstacles. On the surface, he is more stable, with a steady job and a long-term boyfriend. Yet he is emotionally paralyzed by a deep-seated fear of commitment, a trait the film clearly links to the unresolved “backstory” with his disapproving and emotionally distant father.

This fear causes him to be pessimistic and to sabotage potential happiness, most notably when he cruelly and impulsively breaks up with his boyfriend immediately after their first real date with the other Zack. He operates from a place of caution, preferring the safety of the familiar even when it makes him miserable. The film smartly posits that the most significant challenges are not the external situations we find ourselves in, but the ones we carry within ourselves.

Familiar Tropes, New Dialogue Options

The film follows a recognizable rom-com structure, like a well-known questline with familiar objectives, but it populates this framework with fresh and specific emotional stakes. We get the quintessential “meet-cute” at a bar, a charmingly awkward first date punctuated by a literal door-to-the-face incident that lands them in the ER, and the eventual, startling revelation of a shared past.

This discovery—that the two Zacks attended the same Jewish summer camp and even shared a kiss during a musical years ago—acts as a massive narrative power-up. It validates their burgeoning sense of destiny while simultaneously raising the stakes to a terrifying level, particularly for the commitment-phobic Zack Mandel. It’s a classic beat, but it feels earned because it’s filtered through the specific anxieties of these characters.

The supporting cast effectively populates this world, each serving a clear narrative function like well-designed NPCs. Zack Anthony has his loyal friend Kenny, while Zack Mandel has his sharp-witted “work wife” Ava (a scene-stealing Jackie Cruz); both act as quest-givers, pushing the protagonists to take action when they are paralyzed by indecision.

The antagonists—Zack Mandel’s comically icy boss Margie and his one-dimensional ex-boyfriend Eric—provide necessary, if predictable, conflict. Meanwhile, Zack Anthony’s grandmother, Portia (the veteran Barbara Barrie), appears in a single, potent scene as the wise sage, delivering the emotional clarity needed to advance the plot. These elements are not groundbreaking, but they are deployed with a sincerity that makes them effective components of the whole.

Heart Over Horsepower

As a singular vision from writer, director, and star Max Talisman, Things Like This runs on pure, unadulterated heart. Its greatest strength, the engine that powers the entire film, is the warm and entirely believable chemistry between Talisman and Joey Pollari.

Their rapport feels natural and lived-in, a central dynamic so engaging it smooths over the film’s rougher, homespun edges. The dialogue is frequently witty and filled with sharp zingers that feel authentic to its setting, and the story’s clear-eyed voice on queer love and body positivity is its most vital asset. The film radiates a joyful, do-it-yourself spirit that is undeniably infectious and stands as a testament to the power of personal storytelling.

However, this heartfelt project is not without its technical flaws. Like an ambitious indie game with a few bugs, the script occasionally leans into overly sappy territory, and some plot points, especially toward the end, feel a bit too convenient, like an unearned achievement.

The tone can be uneven, shifting from light, airy comedy to heavy emotional introspection with a jarring abruptness that reveals its indie filmmaking seams. Predictable elements, like the homophobic father trope, feel like well-worn paths in a genre that is trying to forge new ones.

Despite these shortcomings, the film succeeds. It’s a charming, deeply personal story whose earnestness and touching message about self-acceptance shine through, much like a beloved cult classic that wins you over not with technical perfection, but with its undeniable and unforgettable soul.

Full Credits

Director: Max Talisman

Writers: Max Talisman

Producers and Executive Producers: Max Talisman, Buzz Koenig, Danny Chavarriaga

Cast: Joey Pollari, Max Talisman, Jackie Cruz, Charlie Tahan, Cara Buono, Bai Ling, Bridget Regan, Barbara Barrie, Nicholas Hamilton, Diane Salinger, William Belli, Amelia Campbell

Director of Photography (Cinematographer): Matt Clegg

Editors: Amy Renner

Composer: Charles Humenry