Given its subject matter and raunchy sense of humor, Natalie Morales’ teen comedy “Plan B” will probably draw comparisons to “Booksmart” and “Unpregnant.” Like the former, “Plan B” centers on two extremely close female friends who feel like outsiders at school; like the latter, the film explores young women’s access (or lack thereof) to reproductive healthcare in Middle America, and features a wild goose chase of a road trip as its centerpiece. Unlike those other movies though, both of “Plan B’s” main characters are young women of color, and their ethnicities and cultures are vital parts of the story. Its inclusivity and incisive humor make it a welcome addition to the teen comedy canon.
Sunny (Kuhoo Verma), who is Indian-American, is a straight-laced overachiever terrified of disappointing her single mother. Her best friend Lupe (Victoria Moroles), who is Latina, is a vaping free spirit who constantly clashes with her pastor father. While it’s never explicitly stated, you get the sense that these two and their families are among the only people of color in their rural South Dakota community. Sunny and Lupe aren’t outright bullied, but they do stand out. Microaggressions — like an otherwise friendly classmate being surprised Sunny’s house doesn’t smell like curry — are a reality of their daily lives.
After a mishap with a condom during her first sexual encounter, Sunny sees her carefully planned future going to shit: she’ll get pregnant, her mother will be furious, she won’t go to college, and she won’t achieve her dreams. So she, with Lupe’s help, decides to get the Plan B pill. Since this is America, that’s way easier said than done. At the local pharmacy, Sunny is blackballed by a member of what she calls the “Indian Mafia” — the community’s network of people of Indian descent who spy on Sunny and report back to her mother, and one of the film’s best recurring jokes — and conscience clauses. With the clock ticking — the morning after pill will only be effective for a certain window of time — Sunny and Lupe make the three-hour drive to the closest Planned Parenthood.
Anyone who has ever seen a teen movie can guess what the trip will entail: hijinks, unforeseen complications, flirtations with love interests, and gross-out humor. And a couple secrets Sunny and Lupe have been keeping from each other will, of course, be revealed.
That would be delightful enough on its own, yet I think “Plan B” will become everyone’s new favorite teen comedy because it has a social conscience. The film, which was penned by Prathi Srinivasan and Joshua Levy, is specific about Sunny and Lupe’s experiences without being ham-fisted about it. They are young women of color — in a predominantly white space — trying to maintain autonomy over their own bodies and reproductive lives. That’s a hard thing and, thanks to the Supreme Court’s crack decision making, it very well could get harder.
Every time abortion access and reproductive healthcare are rolled back in this country — which is a lot — it hits women like Sunny and Lupe the hardest. How refreshing that a film as funny and goofy as “Plan B” is also smart enough to acknowledge that.
“Plan B” is now available on Hulu.
