Michael Ausiello (Jim Parsons) is content working his job at TV Guide, even if he has to write about Fear Factor instead of Gilmore Girls, but when he meets Kit Cowan (Ben Aldridge) at a bar one night, there is an instant connection.  The two men are enjoying their honeymoon phase when Kit receives a troubling diagnosis that forces the couple to disclose their relationship to Kit’s parents, Marilyn (Sally Field) and Bob (Bill Irwin).  While Kit eventually does get better, the cancer returns, more aggressively, some years later and the two men must reckon with the inevitable tragic ending to their relationship. 

Spoiler Alert is the David Marshall Grant and Dan Savage penned adaptation of Michael Ausiello’s memoir, directed by Michael Showalter released as a bit of Hallmark counterprogramming by Focus Features.  The film broaches a wide range of genres, opening more as a rom-com, tilting into a relationship drama, making the passage of time through holiday celebrations – mostly Christmases – and all while helping to fill out the more mainstream offerings of queer stories that are not rooted into the tragedy of being gay.  While Spoiler Alert does not have the happy endings that the genre is severely lacking, there is a confidence from both Michael and Kit that they are not ashamed of their identities, and that in and of itself is a huge step forward for larger, studio-backed features. 

Cheekily playing with the title, the film opens with Michael laying next to Kit on a hospital bed as Parsons narrates that this is not how their story was supposed to end before the film flashes back to the meet-cute and lets us experience the highs and lows of love alongside the two until their final moments that will return to them to the hospital bed.  It is not a revolutionary framing device, but it honestly is one of the smarter uses of it so that audiences know exactly where this story is going to be headed, tonally and emotionally.  To set it up as a pure rom-com that takes a tragic turn would feel incredibly unfair to audiences that find themselves invested in the story, and while death is a part of life, to give us a heads up that this will end in loss helps us brace for impact without taking away from the emotional beats, either. 

The film can be considered a pretty level two-hander that allows both Michael and Kit their moments to shine, but with Parson’s narration, he edges out the lead by a hair.  Parsons is also able to stretch a bit more as an actor who had been working small roles for years before becoming a household name as Sheldon on The Big Bang Theory (2006-2019) as the role of Michael has many dramatic moments to convey.  It is a tender performance that slowly finds Michael lowing his guard and letting Kit in, while also still grappling with some traumas from his past.  The script still does allow Parsons to have comedic moments as well, but what is notable here is that his delivery of these jokes – even the ones steeped in pop culture references or poking at some of Michael’s idiosyncrasies – feel very different than his delivery of jokes on The Big Bang Theory. 

Opposite Parsons is Aldridge’s Kit, and while he does well in the role, the script does saddle him with a character that is much more one-dimensional than Michael.  Ultimately, his role is one that becomes designed and informed by the tragic cancer diagnosis, but there are a few moments, even after he is sick when he can embrace his photography and step outside of the archetype of a sick partner.  The film also touches on some elements of Kit’s story like his reluctance to disclose his sexuality to his parents and a fling with one of his coworkers, but the film does not paint Kit as a villain in the story.  It treats these aspects of his character frankly and maturely, and while the scene with Michael and Kit in couple’s therapy is played for jokes, it was refreshing to see the film so grounded in the work that goes into making a relationship successful and that push and pull of compromise was some of the strongest moments in the film. Ultimately, the story takes a very simplistic route, and it would have been nice to see them work through these issues a little more head-on and together, but that Spoiler Alert even brings these topics to the screen at all is commendable. 

A romantic comedy needs two things: chemistry between the two leads (check), and a cast of archetype characters that serve as an emotional barometer to the couple (check). Bob and Marylin fill that role in this film, and their welcoming attitude towards not just Kit’s sexuality but Michael as a second son is heartwarming to see. The script allows the parents to have individual moments with the couple independent of each other, and these ho-hum everyday scenes have such an unadorned power behind them because for many couples who identify as part of the LGBTQ+ community, that acceptance may not be available to them. 

The second thing which Spoiler Alert does really well is how it shows Michael processing his life through the idea that he is the main character of a prime-time sitcom. Sitcom Michael (Brody Caines) lives at home with his older brother (Braxton Fannin) and their mother (Tara Summers). The framing device is introduced early on, and it comes up a few times throughout the narrative that helps give audiences a better idea of what Michael is feeling without having to bog down the action or emotion of the scene with bulky exposition. The sequences are campy and fun, and a great way to also highlight Michael’s love of television as well as his vivid imagination. Stephanie Q. Bowen’s set for these scenes, as well as the overall film that shows the various design trends that have come and gone over the course of Michael and Kit’s relationship, are a real treat that perfectly captures that bygone style of family sitcom, complete with a laugh track and queued up “awes” when the show tackles some real-life issues. 

While Spoiler Alert manages its many tonal shifts well, it could have benefitted from a little less breadth and a little more introspection. Much like the scenes with the therapist, the script seemed almost afraid to peel back the character’s layers of protection too much, and while that allows us to see many aspects of their relationship, it does not always feel full. But how do you translate some fifteen years of love into a two-hour film? It is not just a difficult task, but it would be impossible, and given the real-life Micheal’s affinity for television, maybe this film really would have been more appropriate as a limited series because it feels like there is so much story that had been condensed and glossed over in the name of runtime. While it still delivers a highlight reel and explores the plot lines enough to create the emotional highs and lows needed to reach audiences, it feels like a film that has so much left unsaid, and though it may feel a little unsatisfying because of that, to its credit, we want to hear it all.