British expat Stuart Pritchard (Stephen Merchant) and his friend Wade (Nate Torrence) find themselves in a Los Angeles club celebrating Jessica's 30th birthday, where their go-to pickup line—“Hello, Ladies.”—is as much a ritual as it is a punchline. The night unfolds with Jessica, whose audition for a yogurt commercial feels demeaning as she’s chased by a yogurt monster, watching her friends exude youth and success from across the room. Jessica, played by Christine Woods, tries to chart a future for herself while her agent Glen (Sean Wing) dodges honesty and sticks to a survival script that doesn’t seem to fit her ambitions. In the back of the room, a sense of growing distance between desire and reality threads through each encounter, making it clear that Jessica is still searching for something lasting.
The evening takes a sharper turn when Stuart receives a call from Trudy, his former girlfriend from England, who is on her way to Los Angeles. To make an impression on her arrival, Stuart enlists the help of his loyal but often beleaguered assistant Rory (Kyle Mooney). Glen suggests an opportunity that promises glamour and access: Alan Randall’s yacht party, a playground for models and actresses who seem to inhabit a different world of possibilities. The lure of the yacht party becomes a beacon for Stuart, who wants to write a new chapter in a life he believes might finally look successful enough to win Trudy back.
Jessica, meanwhile, endures a string of disappointing auditions and encounters. A priest can’t explain the mysteries of faith, a vapid man at a backyard party fails to leave an impression, and a casual phone-number swap lands Stuart’s number in Jessica’s hands, turning a setback into a kind of distant mirror. In a restaurant with Wade, Rory, and Kives (the sharp, cool-headed colleague played by Kevin Weisman), Stuart brags about kissing a Russian model, a moment that underscores his hunger for validation. At home, the couple settles into a pattern of shared jokes and TV-laughs, with Jessica’s film “White Venom 2” briefly flashing across the screen and a playful tug-of-war over the remote cable of their evolving relationship.
The move toward a more complicated truth accelerates when Wade introduces Jessica to his boss, Carol (Michael Hyatt), who represents a potential new path for Jessica though she has no clear qualifications or degree to lean on. As Stuart and Rory prepare Stuart’s home for Trudy and Mike’s visit, the rent tension tightens; Jessica hints she’s behind on rent, a reminder of the precariousness that frames every choice in their shared space. Then the long-awaited boat party arrives, with Alan Randall’s entourage in full display. Alan’s world is a curated spectacle, and he wants his friends moved to the periphery as he elevates others. In a bold, public moment, Stuart confronts the naked misogyny around him, calling Alan a “misogynist old wanker” as he exits the yacht. This confrontation marks a turning point in his stance toward the people who once fed his fantasies.
The party also reveals the stark contrast between realms: Stuart’s boastful self-image begins to crumble as Jessica’s life quietly grows in a direction that isn’t defined by his approval. At a pivotal moment, Trudy appears, and to the astonishment of all, she spots Nicole Kidman (Nicole Kidman) at the party. Stuart—ever the improviser—asks Nicole to play along, pretending they used to date, a lie designed to elevate his social standing and impress Trudy. Nicole acquiesces with good humor, but the situation underscores the performative nature of Stuart’s pursuit. The moment is deftly crafted to show how far he’ll go to preserve a narrative of success, even at the cost of others’ comfort.
Back home, a more intimate truth emerges. Jessica admires Stuart’s casual charm and the way he’s learned to relax and listen. He offers to fund her education, and in a small, intimate exchange, she asks him to be honest about their relationship. When she asks for space, he agrees to remain friends, masking his heartbreak with a smile and the appearance of maturity. Wade’s bar encounters with new girlfriends and a bar-side chat about hopeful futures reveal a friend group that isn’t just a chorus of supporting players but a chorus of competing desires.
As the summer wears on, Jessica begins to carve out a path that reflects her own values rather than Stuart’s fantasy. She enrolls in college, feeling a mix of excitement and doubt about her future, while her friends—particularly Kate (Allison Tolman)—cheer her progress and share in her growth. New faces enter the frame: Carrie (Carly Craig) becomes a playful counterpoint to the female models on Stuart’s side of the party circuit, while Wade’s companion invites a different kind of honesty into the room. Kives (Kevin Weisman) and Josh (Greg Tuculescu) appear in sharp, grounded moments that pull the broader comedy toward a human center.
In the wake of these shifts, Stuart’s life begins to reconfigure itself. He encounters a blunt, humbling truth when he calls Trudy to confess that Jessica isn’t really his girlfriend and that he never even met Nicole Kidman in the way he pretended. The confession is a turning point—an acknowledgment that the glamour and bravado were a mask for something less certain. He apologizes, and Trudy accepts, offering a quiet blessing for his evolution.
Jessica’s birthday party becomes a microcosm of the new balance she’s finding: she invites Stuart and Wade to the same table, and the room hums with familiar warmth and renewed respect. The exchange of gifts—Stuart’s gesture of a 24-hour gift card to help her—with a playful farewell signals a shift from dependence to mutual support. The air at the party hints at a future in which both of them can enjoy each other’s company without the weight of expectation pressing down. Their final moment—Stuart stepping away, then turning back at the sound of Jessica’s call—lands on a note of tempered optimism. “Seventy-nine percent,” she quips, revealing a shared language about imperfect happiness. They kiss, acknowledging that love, like life, is a balance of percentages, not absolutes.
In the end, what remains is a more honest friendship, a clearer sense of Jessica’s path, and a version of Stuart that has learned to step back from the chase and value the real connections he can cultivate. The film’s quiet humor, sharp social observations, and earnest emotional core all converge in a calmer, more confident note. The world Stuart once chased—the yacht parties, the golden glow of models, the illusion of being “The One”—is still there, but he’s learned to measure what truly matters—not in glamour, but in the everyday moments that actually last.
