According to most people on TikTok, the 2022 Netflix movie Purple Hearts is the peak of romance (and oddly enough, the people of Google reviews agree, as the film has a 4.4 rating on Google). As a lover of rom-coms myself, I watched the movie when it first came and even then saw it as more propaganda than romance.
Purple Hearts is the story of how Cassie and Luke start a relationship by faking a marriage so Cassie can have access to government-sponsored health insurance and Luke can use the extra money to cover a hefty debt he owes his drug dealer. Played by Sofía Carson, Cassie is a singer with type-1 Diabetes and the daughter of a Mexican immigrant in Southern California, who is as politically “blue” as one can be. Luke, played by Nicholas Galitzine, is a troubled Marine with a complicated relationship with his father, who is as “red” as they come. The film does a poor job of presenting the enemies-to-lovers trope, arguing that love can conquer all, even completely opposing political views that are deeply rooted in someone’s lived experience and core beliefs.
Right from the get-go, the film tries to convince its audience that love is possible if you can just find some common ground with your partner. It’s even the title’s play on words: Purple Heart, as in the medal awarded to members of the US military who are injured or killed in combat, and purple, as in the mix of colors red (most associated US conservative and right-wing politics and ideas) and blue (typically associated with US liberal and left-wing politics). However, despite what the clever title might suggest, there is no mutual (mutual being the key word here) shift to any sort of common ground in the 122 minutes of the film’s running time.
While we do get a shift in perspective, it’s not the romantic “we understand each other and finally agree on some things” that (I’m assuming) the movie wanted to showcase in the first place. The only change we see is Cassie’s “blue” turning a little more “red” and accepting her partner’s views and beliefs as the film progresses. This in itself is not necessarily a bad thing; it’s obviously possible to date – or even marry – someone who doesn’t share your exact political views. However, the way to make it work is not by abandoning your core beliefs in the pursuit of a “happy” relationship.
I know from experience what finding common ground while disagreeing with your partner’s politics looks like and it’s messy. It requires uncomfortable conversations. After all, relationships of all kinds are built on mutual respect, listening and understanding what others have to say. They’re not by imposing our ideals and worldview onto our friends and partners and bullying them into submission.
While I’ll admit I found myself rooting for the couple during the quiet “we’re slowly falling in love” scenes because I’m a sucker for romance, it was nearly impossible to keep rooting for them. Because Luke kept calling Cassie a liberal nut. Because Luke ordered (yes, ordered) Cassie to shut up and sit down when she spoke up about one of Luke’s Marine friends’ extremely racist comment. And because Luke judged Cassie for her mother’s illegal immigrant status.
In this film, Cassie, the Latina woman, seems to exist solely to serve as the vehicle for Luke’s “redemption” (as proven when Luke’s father says, “I thought you were good for him” when he eventually gets charged with fraud), as well as to uplift him and his Marine friends after a rough day. One would think that by 2022 (and now in 2024) Latina women would have stopped being portrayed as manic-pixie-dream-girls whose passions revolve around a man who, ultimately, does not respect her.
The movie isn’t good by any means, but I’ll also admit it wasn’t all bad. For one, the original songs are incredibly catchy. It also touches on some more serious and real topics, like the broken healthcare system in the United States. In the film, Cassie originally proposed the faux marriage to her childhood friend (and Luke’s bunkmate), Frankie, after finding out she can get access to free healthcare that will provide her with insulin as a military wife.
While the way the topic was brought up feels incredibly problematic – as it just perpetuates the fake idea that Latinx immigrants are a burden on the US government (spoiler: they’re not!) – no one should have to fake a marriage to gain access to life-saving healthcare. That part remains true and topics like these need to be addressed more often and louder by the mainstream media, society, and politicians alike. There would be no desperate desire to cheat the system if the system wasn’t so incredibly rigged, especially against immigrants.
I’m all for the representation of Mexican and Latinx immigrants in the US. We need these stories told in a way that reflects the good, the bad, and the in-between, because whether “red” and “blue” politicians agree on it, immigration is inevitable and one of the many (potentially uncomfortable) undeniable facts of life. Sadly, the representation seen in Purple Hearts is not the way to do it.
I’m all for encouraging respectful conversation and listening to people from all across the political spectrum, but “moderate” or “center” politics should not be understood as an equal to “I’m going to shut up about my views, stop demanding basic respect and rights, or ‘smile, look pretty, and blindly accept the other side’s still extreme and discriminatory politics’ just to keep the peace.” Nope. Frankly, we’re way past that.
Despite being one of Netflix’s most-watched films of 2022 (maybe because Carson and Galitzine are such beautiful people), Purple Hearts falls short of its intended purpose. It may want to be a feel-good love story, much like those made popular by the likes of Noah Sparks in the last two decades, but it’s actually just military and right-wing propaganda.