The тιԍнт-knit friendship between two young men is disrupted when they meet an interesting woman. That’s arguably the most basic description of Challengers, but it’s also the premise for Poetic License, Maude Apatow’s directorial debut. I couldn’t help but think of the 2024 Luca Guadagnino movie during a key moment in Apatow’s film, though the latter is something decidedly different but still special.

In the central triangle, the focal point is Liz (Leslie Mann), a former therapist who, in the absence of working, has turned her attention completely to her teenage daughter Dora (Nico Parker), who is just one year away from going to college. After moving to a new town so her husband (Cliff “Method Man” Smith) can work at the local university, Liz audits a poetry class in the hopes of filling her suddenly very dull days.

It’s there that she meets best friends and polar opposites Sam (Andrew Barth Feldman) and Ari (Cooper Hoffman). Sam is a reserved econ major primed for a fancy finance job after graduation, while rich kid Ari tends to be more emotive, free-wheeling, and self-absorbed. Despite their clear differences, though, the two boys have a clear bond, but it’s all thrown into disarray when they meet Liz.

Poetic License Works So Well Thanks To Leslie Mann & A Strong Script

Working off a script by Raffi Donatich, Apatow demonstrates a strong sense of confidence behind the camera. The Euphoria star’s got a keen eye for visual comedy and key emotional beats, hitting all the right notes to get the intended reactions from the audience. It helps that Poetic License‘s dialogue is whip-smart; Donatich’s script keeps the quips flying, and then will sneak in a line that hits you right in the gut.

Mann has always been an underrated comedic star, and she gets a wonderful showcase here with Liz. On paper, the character could be an overdone archetype, but Mann makes her feel so real and relatable that she seems brand-new. This also elevates the premise. We can see right from the start that Sam and Ari are smitten with Liz, but from her perspective, she’s just making friends, and it somehow never feels icky.

Sam and Ari soon find themselves competing with each other for Liz’s attention and affection, their desire to outdo each other growing more fervent with each pᴀssing day. Liz is desperately trying to reconnect with an increasingly distant Dora, and her husband is feeling pretty far away, too. It makes sense why she’d be drawn to Ari and Sam.

One mushroom-fueled evening gives all three the chance to open up and confront their deepest insecurities. The core trio of Poetic License is well-developed, though the same can’t quite be said for the other supporting characters. Parker’s Dora gets the best arc, with the mother-daughter dynamic resonating strongly. This was no doubt helped by Apatow and Mann’s real-life relationship, which only seems to enrich the material.

Liz’s struggles with her husband is a bit less defined, but we’re given enough to empathize with her position. The climactic confrontation between all the key players is a huge highlight, brimming with hilarity and deep-seated hurt. It almost reminded me of the infamous reveal scene in Crazy Stupid Love; between that, the aforementioned Challengers vibe, and a few other visuals, I get the impression that Apatow is a real film student, constantly learning from what she watches.

Mann deserves a lot of praise here, but Feldman and Hoffman are equally excellent. Their comedic timing is perfect, and both can do a lot with a simple expression. Feldman especially earned many laughs during my screening. Special credit should also go to the always-reliable Martha Kelly, who plays the poetry professor and drops some absolutely hilarious personal tidbits.

Poetic License has a classic sort of feel that makes it a very enjoyable watch. It keeps a good pace, mixes the heart with the hilarious, and spotlights an incredible collection of performers. Apatow clearly knows what she’s doing here, and I’ll be excited to see what she does next behind the camera.

Poetic License premiered at the 2025 Toronto International Film Festival.