There’s something uniquely chaotic—and somehow oddly relatable—about a couple attempting to celebrate their love while the universe decides to throw absolutely everything at them, including murder. That’s the absurd premise of I Don’t Understand You a horror-comedy that wraps relationship drama, international travel disasters, and accidental homicide into one tightly packed suitcase.
Starring comedy veterans Nick Kroll and Andrew Rannells, the film takes what should be a heartfelt babymoon through Italy and turns it into a slapstick descent into madness, all while tugging at the loose threads of a relationship straining under the pressure of impending parenthood. The result? A messy, blood-splattered, sometimes hilarious exploration of love, fear, and whether two people can survive each other before they survive a family dinner gone fatally wrong.
Let’s unpack it all—suitcases, trauma, and emotional baggage included.
A Babymoon, But Make It Existential (and Bloody)
The premise is deceptively sweet: Dom (Kroll) and Cole (Rannells) are a couple on the cusp of adopting their first child. After enduring a gut-wrenching, emotionally exhausting journey filled with betrayals and near-misses, they finally receive word that their dream of becoming parents is actually coming true. The birth mother, played by Amanda Seyfried, is ready, willing, and in their corner.
So, in celebration—and in a bid for one last romantic getaway before diaper duty begins—they head to Italy. Sounds charming, right? Picture a romantic gondola ride, gelato-fueled afternoons, and endless pasta dinners under string lights. But if you were hoping for a dreamy Under the Tuscan Sun moment, think again.
From the moment they board their flight, things are off. Quite literally—blood drips onto Cole mid-flight. Is it a metaphor? A setup for impending doom? Both? Either way, it’s unsettling enough to make anyone start spiraling. Cole certainly does.
This ominous (and darkly funny) moment foreshadows the ridiculous misadventures ahead. Once in Italy, Dom and Cole get misdirected by an old family friend who promises a true rustic experience—and accidentally sends them on the path to total disaster instead. What follows is a series of unfortunate events that range from car trouble to language mix-ups to (yes) accidental manslaughter. Let’s just say this couple’s idea of “a quiet dinner in the countryside” ends with a literal body count.
Language Barriers, Dead Ends, and Murder by Miscommunication
One of the film’s sharpest recurring gags is how language becomes both a comedic obstacle and a metaphor for the relationship itself. Dom and Cole are strangers in a strange land, barely grasping the words around them, relying on hand gestures, confused translations, and sheer guesswork to get by. It’s no surprise then that their relationship—clearly already under strain—starts to unravel under this pressure.
Everything that can go wrong does go wrong. Their rental car gets stuck on a remote dirt road. One of them sulks in the front seat while the other gets sprayed with mud. There’s awkwardness at dinner with strangers, mounting anxiety, and finally, a spiraling series of events that would make even the Final Destination franchise take notes. And just when you think it can’t get worse, it does—because these two somehow manage to kill someone.
Accidentally, of course. But still—dead is dead.
This is where I Don’t Understand You starts to shift gears from quirky rom-com to something that resembles Death at a Funeral meets The Trip. Blood is spilled. Chaos reigns. And through it all, Dom and Cole continue to bicker, cry, reconnect, and pull apart, all in equal measure.
Nick Kroll & Andrew Rannells: A Delightful Duo in a Death Spiral
At the heart of this gleeful disaster are Kroll and Rannells, who lean hard into their characters’ flaws while still making them lovable—or at least understandable. Kroll’s Dom is the more affable optimist, the kind of guy who thinks he can fix anything, even when the world is crumbling around him. Rannells plays Cole with a more simmering, skeptical edge, bringing an underlying nervous energy that hints at deeper fears—about parenting, about commitment, and about whether he and Dom are truly ready for this next chapter.
Their chemistry is the glue that keeps this bloody mess from falling apart. Whether they’re squabbling about whose fault the latest disaster is or sharing unexpectedly sincere moments between corpses and countryside dinners, the duo sells both the comedy and the conflict. Kroll’s physical humor balances Rannells’ quiet fury, and together, they keep things engaging even when the plot veers into the truly absurd.
Between Gore and Giggles: Co-Directors Walk a Tonal Tightrope
The movie’s creative team—Brian Crano and David Joseph Craig—clearly had a very personal story in mind. Drawing from their own experiences with the adoption process, the duo weaves in genuinely touching moments of vulnerability amid the absurdity. But this is no Hallmark tale. Instead, they go full Coen brothers—if the Coens were gay dads with a fondness for European murder-mishaps.
To their credit, Crano and Craig don’t shy away from the emotional weight of adoption—the waiting, the uncertainty, the heartbreak of being scammed, the fear of failure. These themes run quietly beneath the film’s comedic exterior. At one point, Cole asks, “How are we supposed to raise a child if we can’t even make it to a restaurant?” It’s played for laughs, sure, but it’s also a deeply revealing line.
That said, the tone can feel uneven. The film often lurches from thoughtful character moments to full-on slapstick bloodbath without much warning. One minute, you’re contemplating the fragility of love under stress, and the next, someone’s getting impaled with cutlery. It’s a tricky balancing act, and while not every tonal pivot lands, there’s a madcap sincerity to the whole endeavor that keeps you rooting for it anyway.
A Slight Story with a Big Messy Heart
If you’re expecting a sharply plotted thriller or a seamless romantic comedy, you might be left wanting. I Don’t Understand You doesn’t always know where it’s going—or how to get there. The film tends to meander, leaning heavily on its escalating hijinks and its central duo’s charm to carry it through.
But maybe that’s the point.
After all, isn’t that what a relationship is? A series of unexpected turns, misunderstandings, and questionable decisions, held together by love, forgiveness, and just enough emotional duct tape to keep it from falling apart completely?
The film’s message seems to be that nobody has it all figured out—not in love, not in parenting, not even in navigating a foreign country with questionable GPS. And sometimes, it takes a borderline-homicidal vacation to realize what truly matters: trust, communication, and a shared willingness to dig your car out of the mud, metaphorical or not.
Verdict: I Don’t Understand You is a Bloody, Bumbling Rom-Com With Guts (Literally)
In the end, I Don’t Understand You is not a polished cinematic gem. It’s more of a charmingly scuffed-up stone—imperfect, quirky, a little out of place, but ultimately worth watching for the laughs, the chemistry, and the occasional gut punch (both emotional and literal).
Yes, it’s uneven. Yes, it’s ridiculous. But it’s also refreshingly original in its approach to modern relationships, especially queer relationships, and the fear-fueled rollercoaster of becoming a parent. The film finds its humor in the mess, its heart in the horror, and its humanity in the hell of travel gone wrong.
So no, this won’t be the next Roman Holiday. But it is an oddly tender tale about blood, breakdowns, and bonding—in the most unexpected of ways. And maybe, just maybe, that’s exactly what makes it memorable.
