In a far-off kingdom ruled over by the theocratic Birdman (Richard E. Grant), not-so-newlyweds Jerome (Amir El-Masry) and Cherry (Maika Monroe) find themselves in a bind as they have not yet produced an heir. Given an ultimatum of 100 days to show signs of a pregnancy, Jerome flees the estate under the guise of being called away for work, leaving his wife in the care of her maiden, Hero (Emma Corrin), and his womanizing friend, Manfred (Nicholas Galitzine). Before Jerome fled, however, he wagered his title and inheritance that in his absence Cherry would remain faithful to him and that Manfred would be unable to seduce her.

Julia Jackman writes and directs 100 Nights of Hero, a pop-fantasy based on Isabel Greenberg’s graphic novel of the same name, itself structured on the Middle Eastern myth One Thousand and One Nights. Acquired for distribution by IFC, the 90-minute film debuted at the Venice International Film Festival ahead of its early December, limited theatrical release.

As with Scheherazade’s tale, these titular nights are spent investing in stories of far off times and far off places, but as Hero spins her yarn to help protect Cherry’s purity – though perhaps for not the benevolent reasons of preserving her and Jerome’s union – we learn that the tale of the three sisters is much closer to home than just an old wives tale passed along across the generations. Hero tells of Rosa (Charli XCX) who is removed from her loving, seaside home where she lived with her sisters, Caterina (Olivia D’Lima) and Mina (Kerena Jagpal), and her sea captain father (Jeff Mirza) to marry a merchant (Tom Stourton). Once wed, she hides from him a secret; that she can read. While this film exists outside of our time and space given the three moons that light up the sky, a learned woman is still open to accusations of witchcraft, the punishment of which is death. The stories, however, live on and they travel the world uniting those who have the knowledge into a “League of Secret Storytellers” compiling these stories into “spell books,” and weaving the narratives onto tapestries and drawings so that these stories will never die. On this level, 100 Nights of Hero is an ode to the enduring power of storytelling; a theme only aided by XCX’s stunning turn, looking radiant in Susie Coulthard’s Renaissance-wear, and being just one of the many elements of the film captured by Xenia Patricia’s fascinated and infatuated lens, but there are much larger themes at play here, too.

Much of this nesting doll narrative is instead spent in the halls of Jerome’s absconded castle, elevating the framing device to a status more akin to main action. Here, we find ourselves caught at the center of an unhappy love triangle in which Manfred tries to infiltrate the will they/won’t they dynamic shared between Cherry and Hero so that he can ultimately inherit his friend’s lands and title. 100 Nights of Hero is at its core a rather simple story, but it complicates itself in its presentation, and while some in the audience may find that grating and unnecessarily cute, this cascading and tumbling presentation actually fits the tone of the film quite well. The scenes shared by these three are often the most energetic as it is not draped in tragedy of the Three Sisters, nor is it in the far off desert island where the League of Secret Storytellers was found; both locales relying heavily on a dustier earth tone color palate compared to the vibrant and bisexually lit castle.

Monroe is captivating on screen but given frightfully little to do even as far as the princess in the tower roles are concerned, and it is especially disappointing given the empowerment niche that this film is seeking to fill. Nevertheless, she fosters strong chemistry with her costars so that while the main narrative of the film is one of the least exciting threads, it is never not enjoyable to watch in the moment. She is strongest when sharing the screen with Corrin, who likewise, is playing a character set on a track and is determined to get to her narrative destination. We need more from this script that refuses to slow down at the cost of character development because the moments we do get – like the chess game – are delightful and help us see these characters as more than just their fairytale archetypes.

The one character that is given the most latitude for growth, oddly enough, is Galitzine’s Manfred. Not only is he afforded the highest ratio of comic moments in which he flaunts his himbo charm to great effect, but Manfred is the only character actively looking to change something whereas Cherry, and to a lesser extent with a secret to hide, Hero, are working to maintain the status quo. This all changes in the final act when our heroines are forced into action, but the script did not support them enough in the first two acts to keep us invested in the rather Manfred-less finale making it feel like an entirely new sort of film all together as it works towards its resolution.

100 Nights of Hero is an inherently queer narrative, and while it holds a PG-13 rating, it is simply because it is too bristly a work that the wider PG net can cast. It is a film that reveals its layers and its structure in ways that an older audience may find too simplistic or not as smart as it thinks it is, but the film is perfectly calibrated for it young adult audience that will no doubt seek this title out and let news of it spread through their social circles like pages of stories caught in the wind. Admittedly, it could be improved by allowing for a little more nuance or introspection on behalf of its core trio because up against Sofia Sacomani’s elaborate production design, the paper thin and reliant archetypes which the characters fill fail to inspire greater understanding of the narrative. The film does serve as a welcoming opening statement for those that may not yet have the words or the experience to lay down an opening gambit in taking claim over the arc of their own lives, but it proves that they are not alone and it can also help to foster some understanding with those across the aisle who similarly may not yet have the vocabulary to define themselves. It is a film that celebrates the marginalized, but does so with a pop sensibility – to be cruelly reductive, it is something like baby’s first Emerald Fennell picture – that it can reach out to wider audience than just the alternative kids and is ultimately a film that has something to say to whomever is willing to listen.