“She loves someone else,” Henry blurts out to his therapist-sister who spends her time sobbing (that’s what you get when you become a part of a film as awful as this), or explaining to her brother (a Timothee Chalamet clone) that love is nothing bit chemical reactions. Chemical Hearts presumes we would instantly get interested in the central love story. Once we are introduced to the two protagonists (one troubled, the other troublesome) all the rest of the characters are painted into a hazy corner.
There is nothing here to hold our interest. Not even a sub-plot about a lesbian couple which plays out like a school boy’s fantasy of what a same-sex romance would like on screen.
Not appetizing nor tempting, simply exasperating. What a waste of time.