Some stories charm you with wit. Others pull you in with slow-burn tension. The Hating Game does both.
Set in the fiercely competitive world of publishing, this 2021 rom-com finds new life in 2025’s streaming boom. It’s currently trending on Netflix, and for good reason—it’s giving lovers of the enemies-to-lovers trope everything they crave, with a few fresh twists along the way.
Lucy Hutton (played by Lucy Hale) is bright, ambitious, and trying very hard to stay sweet in a corporate world that rewards the opposite. Her nemesis, Joshua Templeman (Austin Stowell), is cold, precise, and unreadably perfect in that maddening “he-knows-he’s-hot” kind of way.
They sit across from each other every day. They play games. They exchange petty jabs. They spy, sabotage, and secretly stalk each other’s work. All this leads up to one thing: a huge promotion that only one of them can win.
But as the battle gets personal, so do the feelings. Office hostility begins to blur into something else—something neither of them saw coming. The more they try to outmaneuver each other, the deeper they fall into a complicated game of attraction, insecurity, and buried wounds.
One of the film’s strongest assets is its unwavering focus on chemistry. Lucy and Joshua don’t just banter—they ignite. Their insults double as foreplay. Their silences say everything. And when the barriers finally come down, the payoff feels earned.
Lucy Hale brings real texture to her role. Her performance is flirty and bold, but also layered with moments of vulnerability. She’s the woman trying to stay likable while fighting to be taken seriously. Austin Stowell, on the other hand, brings a slow-burn intensity. His Josh is restrained and confident, but his emotional walls crumble in the most revealing moments.
The cinematography keeps things sleek and modern, with cool-toned office spaces contrasted by warm, intimate scenes that hint at softening edges. The soundtrack complements the arc well, moving from upbeat snark to romantic swells that cue emotional turning points.
But this isn’t a flawless film. It’s still deeply rooted in romantic comedy clichés—elevator make-outs, big misunderstandings, emotional declarations. If you’re looking for something unpredictable or edgy, this might not be your thing. However, if you enjoy comfort stories with sharp dialogue and believable tension, The Hating Game delivers on that front.
More importantly, it captures something real: the exhausting effort to separate who you are from who you need to be at work. Lucy and Josh are, at their core, two people who’ve built entire emotional systems to survive in a cutthroat environment. When love shows up, it’s messy—but that mess is also the magic.
In a season where many rom-coms are all sparkle and no soul, The Hating Game comes with grit. It’s not groundbreaking, but it’s satisfying. It’s warm without being saccharine. And most of all, it reminds us that sometimes, falling in love is just another battle—you just need to figure out if you’re ready to surrender.
