From Some Like It Hot and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid to Superbad and The Hangover, the buddy comedy has established itself as a distinct cinematic genre, separate from the rom–coms we fawn over and the action movies that captivate us. They exist somewhere in between, typically blending elements of emotional depth with ridiculous, almost farcical action sequences (usually some sort of car chase or fistfight), but when they’re done right, what we remember most is the friendship around which the film revolves. It just so happens that, for most of the genre’s existence, the friendships it’s chosen to showcase have been male.
Whether this imbalance comes from a notion that women aren’t funny, that their stories aren’t as worth telling, or the impossible standard of perfection that female–led comedies are held to, it has created a hole in Hollywood that Thelma & Louise and Booksmart just aren’t enough to fill.
Female friendships, intense and devoted, are rife with cinematic potential, so why don’t we capitalize on that?
Enter One of Them Days, a February box office hit that’s making waves as much as it’s making money. The film stars Keke Palmer and SZA as roommates and best friends who have just one day to make their rent money after it’s stolen by a cheapskate boyfriend. Beyond absolutely exceeding its comedic potential, it weaves in threads of social justice to create a masterpiece that balances comedy and commentary with ease.
Palmer stars as Dreux, a waitress living in Los Angeles with her artist best friend Alyssa (SZA). When they find out that Keshawn (Joshua David Neal), Alyssa’s freeloading but hung (yes, this is a plot point) boyfriend, has stolen their rent money, they’re faced with two options: find a way to get $1,500 by 6 p.m. or face eviction. To top it off, Dreux has a job interview at four—and if she gets the gig, they’ll never have to stress about money again.
Cue a series of increasingly ridiculous endeavors to get the money back. Their first attempt tracks Keshawn to his other girlfriend Berniece’s (Aziza Scott) house in an attempt to retrieve the cash, but it’s gone by the time they get there, and the carnage they do to Berniece’s house sends her off on a quest for revenge. With the money still hanging over them, they’re denied a loan from a woman who laughs hysterically over Dreux’s credit score of 122 and resort to a blood bank where each pint donated gets them $70. In one of the film’s most memorable scenes, Alyssa finds a very pale, very nearly dead Dreux half–conscious in the chair after giving four pints—half of her body’s blood volume. Furious, Alyssa gets into a fight with the phlebotomist, slips on a loose bag, and blood explodes all over the room. It’s gory, it’s completely jarring, and it’s perfect.
In a move of brazen genius, Alyssa climbs a telephone pole to grab a pair of Jordans off of the wires. Brand new, she says—and they’re worth as much. Dreux manages to get an even $1,500 for them. Problem solved.
After they regain their strength, Dreux is off to her job interview, which she crushes, but is interrupted by Berniece fighting Alyssa outside on the lawn. In a tense split second, Dreux has to make a decision—deny that she knows the two or sacrifice her perceived professionalism by coming to her friend’s rescue. She chooses Alyssa and loses the opportunity and the fight in one go. Dreux and Alyssa’s tension comes to a head, and the two criticize each other for their fundamental differences—Dreux is too inflexible while Alyssa never has a plan. When crime lord King Lolo (Amin Joseph) finds out that they’ve sold his shoes for cash, he calls them with a threat: give him $5,000 by the end of the day or die.
They return home to find their belongings on the curb, and all seems lost until Bethany (Maude Apatow), a white girl who’s just moved into their complex, sees one of Alyssa’s paintings and asks how much it is. “$300,” Dreux tells her. “Done!” Bethany says brightly. Dreux, realizing the real potential behind Alyssa’s work, organizes an art show that both impresses her prospective employer and earns them all the money they need to avoid death by Lolo. The film wraps up neatly: a fire saves the pair from Lolo’s wrath and exposes their landlord’s negligence, allowing them a pretty hefty insurance claim. A neighbor offers to take them in while they get back on their feet, and the two celebrate over a few Hot Cheeto martinis—which, unfortunately, do sound pretty good to me.
One of Them Days is a comedy first and foremost—its blood bank scene is both hilarious and horrifying, and the quiet, almost throwaway delivery of Dreux’s one–liners further cements Keke Palmer as one of the modern greats—but more than that, it’s a love story. Dreux and Alyssa’s relationship has no element of familial or romantic obligation and is just as—if not more—high–stakes and emotionally impactful for both of them than their other commitments. From the moment Dreux gets into Alyssa’s car, their chemistry is magnetic and palpable. They fall into place with an ease that only comes with having known someone for your whole life. This authenticity is constant, even when they’re resolving their fight in a burning apartment building. Alyssa apologizes first, and Dreux sighs. “I meant a lot of what I said,” she admits, “But I’m sorry. ‘Cause I really do love you.” All at once, she recognizes Alyssa’s flaws and loves her anyway. They hug, Keshawn tries to join in, and Alyssa pushes him off. This isn’t about him—he’s interrupting her moment with Dreux.
Beyond the strength of Dreux and Alyssa’s bond, the film is careful to touch on real social issues that impact its protagonists as Black women living in a major United States city. Bethany’s arrival in their complex, for instance, sets off alarm bells for all the current residents that their neighborhood is increasingly in danger of gentrification. Bethany’s apartment, with its crown molding and functional AC, is much nicer than Dreux and Alyssa’s—a sign that their landlord is making an intentional investment in a certain kind of tenant. At Dreux’s job interview, her white interviewer mispronounces her name and, upon being corrected, tells her “That’s a new one. Parents didn’t make it easy on you, did they?” It’s not until her second interviewer, a Black woman named Shayla (Gabrielle Dennis), appears that Dreux begins to feel comfortable enough to charm the hell out of both of them. And while she initially loses the offer due to the fight outside, Shayla is the one who extends a second chance after seeing the art show. “I actually grew up in the Jungles,” she tells Dreux. In that moment, hope is based on their common ground.
Let’s face it—while there’s no shortage of buddy films, the number of ones that feature Black women as protagonists is shockingly low. As producer Issa Rae says, “We haven’t seen Black female buddy comedies since B*A*P*S and even Girls Trip, but buddy comedy specifically, where it’s a duo.” A long 20 years passed between B*A*P*S (1997) and Girls Trip (2017), and another eight separate the latter from One of Them Days. Here’s to hoping it won’t be that long until the next one—the performances in this film prove, without a doubt, that these friendships deserve to be appreciated.
