There could possibly be no more fitting option to end the 63rd New York Film Festival than with the selection of a New York–set romantic comedy with gravitas.

A bold and remarkably assured feature directorial debut plays out mostly like a fizzy—albeit sexually explicit—romantic comedy, with deep dramatic undertones.

Most rom-com heroines never discuss money, but here, the heroine is obsessed with it.

If only life was like a Jane Austen novel.

A sensitively drawn if somewhat middling throwback to the dramedies of the 1980s and 1990s, starring Dustin Hoffman and Sissy Spacek.

A fizzy, feel-good comedy that believes in the goodness of the human heart, even if the brain attached is a little flighty.

For fans of the genre, this Regency romance, directed with a sure hand, is closer to a bright, airy soufflé than a stolid pudding.

Though supposedly the characters are messy and flawed, the film’s second half feels like a disguised PSA for behaving nice and having functional conversations.

Part of the movie’s punch can be chalked up to the sheer audacity of its titular character: a monster of self-absorption, flighty, rude, and prone to oversharing and interrupting.