I Love You Forever

It’s not just a film about love; I Love You Forever feels like a warped mirror reflecting how far emotionally vulnerable people are willing to go in the name of connection. Director Cazzie David, in partnership with Elisa Kalani, crafts an anti-romcom that insists on stepping beyond comfort, presenting Mackenzie (Sofia Black-D’Elia) caught in the type of relationship that initially feels like salvation — extravagant gifts, constant messages, fancy dinners — the classic signs of love bombing. Then it turns into a cage.

The first act is deceptively light: Tinder dates, lunch with friends, dry jokes. There’s a breezy chemistry between Sofia and Ray Nicholson, who plays Finn, that echoes the charm of ‘90s rom-coms. But the storm creeps in fast. Finn becomes intense, manipulative, suddenly overly emotional — a gallery of traits belonging to a textbook emotional abuser. Nicholson’s performance is key to making this believable. His transition from charm to cold detachment is jarring but never unnatural. It's a performance that knows when to press and when to pull.

Sofia Black-D’Elia grounds Mackenzie with humanity. She plays a law student whose daily life slowly collapses as the relationship deepens. What’s compelling is that even when Mackenzie acts irrationally — ignoring red flags, defending the indefensible — Sofia never loses our empathy. The performance is textured, conveying confusion, guilt, and an attachment to a fantasy of love that’s impossible to sustain.

Visually, Christine Ng’s cinematography leans on subjectivity. Close-ups, awkward silences, the ambient hum of text messages and uncomfortable dinners, and Michael Penn’s sparse, wandering score all serve to translate Mackenzie’s inner world. It’s a minimalist aesthetic, at times sterile, as if the coldness of her emotional limbo is mirrored in the blankness of her physical surroundings. This deliberate visual emptiness heightens the discomfort but sometimes undermines the film’s impact. The setting feels impersonal, even forgettable.

A pivotal moment — arguably the film’s most brutal — comes when Finn erupts in a tantrum, accusing Mackenzie of “making him want to die” for not replying to his message. It’s the centerpiece of the movie’s emotional violence. There’s no shouting match, no physicality, just a stream of cutting words and a single unbroken shot of Mackenzie receiving them. It lands like a punch without noise — the kind of scene that lingers in your chest.

But the screenplay falters in the aftermath. The final act, where Mackenzie seems to simply drift away while Finn announces a new love interest on a podcast, is effective in how it unsettles — but it leaves too much emotionally unresolved. We never see her introspection, nor do we witness her internal growth. Some critics may find this frustrating, yet perhaps that ambiguity is the point: trauma rarely wraps itself up in neat cinematic bows.

One of the film’s subtler successes lies in its secondary characters — Ally (Cazzie David) and Lucas (Jon Rudnitsky) — whose sardonic humor offers a break from the tension, though their emotional contribution is minimal. They’re sounding boards, not lifelines, and that in itself says something about the isolation baked into toxic relationships. This disconnection might resonate deeply with millennial viewers who’ve lived similar digital-age cycles of affection, neglect, and confusion.

Without empty praise, I’d argue I Love You Forever fulfills its mission: to unsettle and provoke reflection. It’s a quietly disturbing exploration of emotional codependency, love bombing, and how easily intensity is mistaken for love. The film may lack a sense of resolution, but it delivers a visceral experience, guided by committed performances and a bold, discomfort-driven direction. For audiences tired of formulaic rom-coms, this is a sharp, emotionally charged jolt — and perhaps a cinematic cautionary tale of our times.

I Love You Forever (2024 / United States)
Direction: Cazzie David, Elisa Kalani
Screenplay: Cazzie David, Elisa Kalani
Cast: Sofia Black-D’Elia, Ray Nicholson, Cazzie David, Raymond Cham Jr., Jon Rudnitsky
Running Time: 89 min.