Nicole Holofcener’s (Friends With Money, Love, and Amazing) You Hurt My Feelings is a less affecting version of her 2013 critically acclaimed and well-received Enough Said. Each movie’s watch went down like a tasty new beverage, but then quickly forgotten as soon as we tried something new. In addition to being a better movie, Enough Said was the final film of the late James Gandolfini and allowed him to shed the exterior of Tony Soprano in favor of a softer, more vulnerable character. Each movie starred Julia Louis-Dreyfus (National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, Hannah and Her Sisters) in, perhaps, her two best non-television roles.

You Hurt My Feelings is a heartfelt, realistic portrayal of how we view our self-worth in our given professions. For some of us, a large part of our existence is tied to our self-worth in our profession. I can speak for myself: my profession is my identity as much as any other aspect of my life. I’m driven to make an impact. As an introvert without a family of my own, I often interact with people only once a day, when I am at work. My first verbal communication in the morning is with the first colleague I see at the office (unless I treat myself to a couple of delicious Dunkin’ Donuts on the way in).

Often, my last verbal interaction in a day is when I’m leaving work. I do plenty of texting and online chatting in the evening, but that is when I’m at home, curled up on the couch in front of the television. In my late 40s, my mantra has become, “How quickly can I get home to my couch for the night? And that is not to say that I don’t have many hobbies and interests outside of work, because I do. I’d even argue that I have more hobbies and interests than many people, with reasons beyond the topic of this conversation. Almost all of those interests/hobbies involve doing things alone (or with my dog). While this is mostly by choice, it hasn’t always been. Again, it is a different topic of conversation. However, my profession has been the most consistent part of my identity. It is also something that I am very good at and one in which I impact my community. The relationship between profession, self-worth, and occupational contentment resonated with me.

Our story has four protagonists. Beth (Louis-Dreyfus), a novelist, is married to Don (Tobias Menzies – Black Sea, Underworld: Blood Wars), a therapist. Sarah (Michaela Watkins – Good Boys, Brittany Runs a Marathon), a designer, is married to Mark (Arian Moayed – Rosewater, Retribution), an actor. Beth and Don are portrayed as happy and successful in their profession, at least in their own eyes. Sarah has grown miserable in her profession. Mark has been unsuccessful with his acting career and is on the verge of abandoning it for something more professional.

The relationships between the two couples are strong, as are their friendships, particularly between Beth and Sarah and Don and Mark. The counterparts are their confidants. That is, until the two pairs, unbeknownst to each other, find themselves at the same bookstore, where Beth and Sarah overhear Don telling Mark he doesn’t like Beth’s new book. He doesn’t so much as slam the novel as he does. He mentions how it doesn’t resonate with him. It’s one of the most mature ways to offer criticism. The problem, however, is that Don keeps this from Beth, leading her to believe that he enjoys her writing. The rejection of her in her chosen profession is devastating enough, but to be kept in the dark about it might even be worse.

Don’s dislike of Beth’s book is, essentially, the movie’s entire conflict. Holofcener could have taken this conflict in many directions. It could have led to anger, betrayal, revenge, or a war of words. Or it could have led to some wild and absurd attempt to make a mockery out of what some might consider so trivial. Holofcener doesn’t go in either direction. Instead, her story has two leads who confront the problem head-on and address it as partners who love each other. It would, perhaps, be human nature for Beth to seek some retribution for the betrayal she feels. And there is, but it is in a very loving way.

Don, who thinks of himself as an accomplished therapist, encounters a few new situations with some of his clients in which newly discovered criticism outweighs any praise. Specifically, one client was heard to say his virtual session was worthless before he closed the Zoom window. A married couple, Don and his wife, have been seeing a therapist for two years, and they want their thousands of dollars back because they feel they are not getting their money’s worth in their joint therapy sessions. In a moment of levity, the couple is requesting a $30,000 refund, which they say is one of the only things they’ve agreed on in the two years they’ve been seeing Don.

The film explores praise and criticism. While it’s human nature to seek praise over criticism, is that always best for us if it isn’t genuine? Disingenuous praise can be more detrimental than constructive criticism, even though the former is easier to offer than the latter. Where do elements of trust fall in our intimate relationships where we are not truthful with each other because we want to spare their feelings? We get a delicate, firsthand look at how this couple works through this. Holofcener examines the issue and its impact on other parts of the relationship. There is no hostility. It is not an uncomfortable experience for the moviegoer, including those watching the film and going through a similar experience.