Look Both Ways isn’t as empowering as it claims to be

The premise seemed full of promise at first: A young woman is tasked with making a decision about her body, her career, and every other aspect of her future—there’s so much potential for a raw and sympathetic portrayal of what leads to her decision to continue to the pregnancy, even if it means putting her plans on hold. So I was shocked when, not 10 minutes into the movie, pregnant Natalie says with zero explanation that she’s decided to ditch her dream—and her best friend and roommate, Cara (Aisha Dee)—of moving to Los Angeles to work in animation studio, and instead raise a child as a single parent. 

The ambitious narrative spans roughly five years of each of Natalie’s lives—which is admittedly a lot of ground to cover in 111 minutes. But the omission of any kind of motivation for becoming a mother at 22 is an oversight that feels, sadly, like a bid for neutrality rather than a time-saving strategy. And neutrality, especially from a star as outspoken as Reinhart, who also served as an executive producer on the project, is not what we need right now. At a time when women in America—and especially Texas, where Natalie is living when she becomes pregnant—are being denied the very right to such a decision, the plot seems tone-deaf at best. 

A more compelling version of events might see Natalie pregnant in both timelines following her one-night stand, and making the decision to terminate the pregnancy in one universe, while continuing it in the other. At the very least, an explanation of how she and her parents, who take her in following her graduation, came to an agreement would’ve lent some realism to the situation. Instead, the only clash between pregnant Natalie and her otherwise supportive parents is a minor tiff when she wakes to find them exercising in her bedroom, which they had turned into a home gym while she was away at school.

The performances from Reinhart and Dee, as well as Natalie’s love interests, played by Danny Ramirez and David Corenswet, are charming enough, though the feeling that I was watching pro-life propaganda prevented me from investing in any of them—even Luke Wilson, the original Law Daddy and my forever aughts crush, who is apparently old enough now to play parent to 25-year-old Reinhart. 

What felt most insincere, however, was the ending of the film. Both of Natalie’s paths lead to the same outcome—she gets the man (obviously), the dream job (and an opportunity to present her work at South x Southwest Festival), a happy ending. Is this possible in real life? Of course it is! But like the rest of the film, the portrayal of events in Natalie’s pregnancy timeline seem too glossy to be true. Who is watching her daughter while she spends hours upon hours building her portfolio? How is she financially supporting the both of them? While it’s clear she is privileged, the failure to acknowledge it at all leads me to believe that perhaps the filmmakers think of her situation as the rule rather than the exception.