2 Sides to Every Story

Overview

2 Sides to Every Story

Rating

1 Reviews

• 

  JPRetana

  Jun 3, 2026

  If there are 2 Sides to Every Story (2025), and there is an A story and a B story to this film, that should equal four sides — and yet there’s hardly enough material here for even its 75-minute runtime. The plot, such as it is, follows “chick magnet” Mike (Andrew Christopher). Early on, he goes out with Brenda (Ty Wheeler) and asks her, “Where do you see yourself five years from now?” Is this a date or a job interview? Brenda answers that “in about five years, I plan on finding an old, lonely, rich man to take care of me.” In the meantime, she just wants to have fun. Mike is down with this, although he should have asked Brenda where she was going to be five minutes from now, because she’s never seen or heard from again after this scene. It’s just as well, since what Mike really wants is to settle down. He thinks he has found the one in new co-worker Jezzy (Kiana Jahnay). They share a Semi-Obligatory Lyrical Interlude, and she wins his family over with unseen gifts — or maybe the gift bags are the present. Mike’s younger brother peeks inside his and declares, “It’s not even out yet.” You’re damn right it isn’t. It doesn’t even come out of the bag, whatever it is. Nonetheless, Mike breaks up with her when she threatens him with a letter opener in a fit of jealousy. An indeterminate amount of time later, he gets a bizarre phone call from Jezzy. Mike races to her place, finds her lying semi-conscious, and asks her, “How many of these did you take?” referring to something outside the frame. Mike then picks Jezzy up, carries her to the bathroom, and has her sit on the floor in front of the toilet bowl. I think that Jezzy is supposed to have tried to OD or something. At any rate, Mike takes her back, impregnates her, and marries her, at which point the movie cuts to “9 months later.” Mike and Jezzy are at home, arguing and calling each other names. She storms off. Twenty seconds later, a couple of police officers come knocking. “We received a call about domestic violence,” they say. “That was me,” says Jezzy. Who says cops are never around when you need them? For a film that, even with a whole bunch of filler (such as a two-minute song sung by a character who appears exclusively to sing it for no purpose other than to kill 120 seconds of runtime), still clocks in at under 80 minutes, 2 Sides is in too much of a hurry to get from one development to the next. Would it have killed writer-director Faye Childs to pace herself and establish a rhythm for Mike and Jezzy’s married life? Childs’s way to transition from the Honeymoon Phase to Trouble in Paradise is to skip the former altogether. Mike decides he wants to divorce Jezzy on the grounds of “a case of undiagnosed bipolar disorder.” Incidentally, 2 Sides has a case of undiagnosed schizophrenia. You’d think a movie that features a money-grubbing character whose birth name is Avarisha (Nyla Murray) and pulls the ol’ Record Needle Scratch out of nowhere would aspire to be a comedy, or at least be aware that nobody is ever going to take it seriously, but this one is deadly serious about telling Mike’s side of the story, which is that everybody “just assumed that [Jezzy] was the victim” because “the system is just so unfair and set up for a man to fail.” That the script thinks men have it worse than women is questionable enough, but this “bitches be literally crazy” crap is offensive to both women and the mentally ill. At the divorce hearing (which takes place in some sort of makeshift conference room), the judge (who for some reason is the only white character in the entire film) holds it against Jezzy that there “is no one here supporting you today” except for her silent lawyer (who for some reason has his arm in a sling). The judge must have been pleased that Mike brought his parents, given that moral support is seemingly more important than the testimony of expert witnesses like a doctor, in the absence of whom the judge asks Mike why he believes Jezzy is bipolar. Mike offers three examples: 1) “She’s accused me of fucking every girl that likes my pictures on Facebook, 2) she has had me arrested under false accusations,” and 3) “a friend of mine’s wedding invitation was sent to my house, and I’m sitting there with the bride and groom, you know, laughing and talking, and next thing you know, Jezzy walks in, giving me a kiss on my cheek saying, “hey baby,” acting like we’re just this perfect couple. The poor bride and groom, you know, I’m scared for them because the most beautiful day of their lives is about to be ruined, so I had to just sit there so that way she wasn’t triggered.” None of these alleged explanations describes behavior exclusive to someone with bipolar disorder — and the last one makes Mike sound like he’s the one who’s paranoid (and possibly illiterate) — nor does Jezzy ever exhibit the main symptom of the condition (alternating between periods of depression and periods of abnormally elevated mood). Additionally, Mike’s testimony is inadmissible because he’s not a psychiatrist. Lucky for him, this judge has never heard of hearsay or bipolar disorder. There’s also a subplot involving Avarisha’s baby daddy, who is Mike’s friend Drake (Stephen Silimon). Avarisha keeps hitting Drake up for money. He puts himself on child support so he’ll only have to pay her a fixed sum at regular intervals. As a result, “child support done done a paternity test today,” and the kid is not his son. Drake briefly disowns the boy but quickly concludes that he’s the only father this 14-year-old kid has ever had and will ever have. This would all be very noble, if somewhat improbable, were it not for a little something called paternity by estoppel, which means that after ... 14 years, whether the boy is his biological son or not, Drake is legally his father. Well, at least he doesn’t have to pay Avarisha alimony. Or maybe he does. It’s hard to say and even harder to care.