‘Little Hearts’ Review: A Super Romantic Comedy Full of Organic Gags & Pop Culture Moments

In an era where romantic comedies often feel like recycled formulas dusted off for a new generation, Little Hearts arrives as a joyful, surprising blast of authenticity. Director Lena Moreau, working with a razor-sharp script, has delivered a film that doesn’t just meet the genre’s demands—it elevates them, providing a story full of belly laughs and moments that feel genuinely earned, not manufactured.

The film stars Ella Chen as Chloe, a hyper-focused, ambitious podcast producer whose life is planned down to the minute, and Miles Jensen as Leo, a charmingly chaotic graphic designer who communicates exclusively through late-90s movie quotes and obscure internet references. Their meet-cute, which involves a disastrous, viral cooking class and a mutual misunderstanding over the difference between a Gen-Z dance trend and a Soviet-era folk dance, sets the tone for the entire relationship: messy, hilarious, and wonderfully human.

The true genius of Little Hearts lies in its commitment to organic gags. This isn’t a film that relies on pratfalls or tired misunderstandings; the humor is derived purely from character and situation. Chloe’s highly organized attempts to cope with Leo’s spontaneous, slightly unhinged lifestyle provide endless comedy gold. Watching Chloe try to create an “Agile Sprint” board for their first apartment furnishing project, only for Leo to replace the task cards with philosophical quotes from 1980s cult classics, is a perfect microcosm of their dynamic. These moments feel rooted in the modern experience—the anxiety of the side-hustle, the difficulty of disconnecting from devices, and the generational gaps that sometimes exist even within a single relationship.

Crucially, the chemistry between Chen and Jensen is incandescent. They don’t just act opposite each other; they sparkle together, making every shared look and awkward silence count. Jensen, in particular, masters the art of the endearing goofball, ensuring his character’s quirkiness never crosses into annoying territory. When the inevitable dramatic tension hits, the emotional payoff is substantial precisely because their connection, built over numerous witty exchanges and believable domestic squabbles, feels so authentic.

Beyond the central romance, Little Hearts is a vibrant tapestry of pop culture moments. The film uses contemporary references with surgical precision. It knows when to lean into a TikTok meme and when to pull back for a deep cut reference to a forgotten cable access show. Unlike many films that feel dated the moment they try to be current, Moreau weaves these references into the dialogue and set pieces, using them as emotional shorthand for the characters. When Chloe finally understands the deeper, personal meaning behind Leo’s obsession with a niche documentary about competitive miniature golf, it’s not just a cute scene—it’s a major relationship milestone for them.

Technically, the film is a bright, slick production. The cinematography is warm and inviting, giving the city locations a sense of intimacy, and the soundtrack is a character in itself, blending nostalgic 80s synth-pop with current indie darlings. But ultimately, this is a film that rests on its heart and its humor.

Little Hearts is more than just a date-night movie; it’s a necessary prescription for anyone feeling cynical about love and laughter. It reminds us that romance thrives in the hilarious, unscripted chaos of real life. It’s super romantic, frequently laugh-out-loud funny, and destined to be one of the most quotable comedies of the year. Go see it.