The Underrated: "What's Your Number?:" A Better-Than-Remembered Romantic Comedy

It's far from perfect, but this sex-crazed Anna Faris vehicle deserved better.

October 4, 2026

Romantic comedies are the hardest genre to pin down. We all know a bad movie when we watch one, but critics still can’t agree on what makes a good rom-com versus a bad one. It feels like it ultimately boils down to how well you execute the formula.

‍

You know: meet-cute, honeymoon phase, contrived conflict, avoidance of simple resolution, grand gesture, kiss, the end. You can’t be too saccharine, but you can’t be too unsentimental. You can’t be too formulaic, but you can’t be too irreverent.

‍

So, what made critics and audiences reject What’s Your Number? in 2011 to the tune of a 23% on Rotten Tomatoes and only grossing $30 million against a $20 million budget?

‍

Some felt it wasn’t intelligent or illuminating, which was disappointing considering it seemed intent on upending sexual double standards. It took the easy way out, setting cinematic feminism back to the silent era, and wasted Anna Faris’ comedic chops.

‍

Is it intelligent or illuminating? Well, no one could accuse the humor of being sharp, but so what? People connect with art, so whether drama, romance, horror, or comedy, artists should occasionally put a little elbow grease into the commentary, but not everything needs to shoot so high. Sure, you can appreciate a movie for what it is or condemn it the same way, but sometimes the proper approach is to take it for what it wants to be. What’s Your Number? makes a quarter-hearted effort at societal issues of sex and feminism, so even if one believes it should and could have done more, that critique should be tempered considering what it actually aimed to achieve.

‍

But in that quarter-hearted effort, does it upend sexual double standards? Well, Ally’s panic is set in by the idea that women struggle to find life partners if they’ve slept with more than 20 people, and she begins revisiting her past relationships to prevent herself from crossing that dooming threshold. She’s been convinced of something based on antiquated notions of female sexuality that entirely dismantle her approach to casual sex, which is saddening. Eventually, she realizes love will come regardless, but that realization is about her personality as a whole, not her number. So, no, it does not.

‍

Did it take the easy way out? Well, formula is as formula does, and rom-coms wouldn’t be rom-coms if they deviated too much. In that sense, every romantic comedy has taken the easy way out. What’s Your Number? could’ve been more hard-edged and unapologetic, and it likely would’ve been better in that case, but again, critics were asking a lot of a movie in 2011, and not every movie needs to be this way.

‍

So, the ultimate analysis is: do we watch this movie wishing it was something other than what it is because it fails to make a good enough impression? The answer: mostly no. Why? Well, if someone were capable of handling the more societally damning approach to these sexual double standards, it would’ve been Anna Faris, but outside of that, What’s Your Number? is exactly what it needs to be: charming, funny, and compulsively watchable.

‍

Why? Because unlike most rom-com leads (like He’s Just Not That Into You’s Gigi, the worst rom-com heroine of all time), we like Ally. We root for her. We relate to her. Who among us hasn’t been forgotten by an ex, only to have their memory stirred by the sight of our genitals? Who among us hasn’t convinced ourselves that our shameless carnivorousness and contempt for green peace cyclists wouldn’t derail a situationship with a vegan environmentalist? Who among us hasn’t slept with someone we shouldn’t have, past the point where we should be making such unwise decisions, and tried to convince ourselves there could be something there?

‍

Sure, Ally has to be like all rom-com leading ladies - a tad more desperate and misguided than plausible - but have you seen the things people are texting their Tinder matches nowadays? People are lonely, people are desperate, and Ally manages to weaponize that loneliness and desperation in a more confoundingly humorous way than most characters of her kind, thanks largely to Faris. The faking of a British accent to land a guy, and the refusal to end the ruse when reunited years later only to have it drunkenly fall apart in a bar could’ve gone horribly wrong in a lesser actress’ hands, but Faris manages it. All the things that would send us into Gigi territory are tempered enough that Ally is just a blundering, awkward, joyous mess.

‍

Thus, we’re having, if not a blast, a very good time with her as she sleeps with the boss who just fired her, bungles her toast to her sister Daisy’s engagement, accidentally trespasses on her ex-boyfriend’s brownstone, and flies all the way to Miami for a pap smear.

‍

It’s only when she and Colin actually progress their relationship that things falter. The strip H-O-R-S-E game at TD Garden strains credulity even for a movie with this premise, but it’s also where it espouses convention the most, buckling under the weight that almost every rom-com does: we can’t really imagine the leads together.

‍

At the beginning, they’re both emotionally unavailable and sex positive (well, until that Marie Claire article derails Ally’s “promiscuity”), and have a penchant for biting humor and solid put-downs. On paper, they’re a match made in heaven. After all, doesn’t love come when you least expect it? Yet, something’s off. Faris and Evans have fantastic platonic chemistry, and a buddy movie of Ally and Colin’s wacky sexual misadventures in Beantown would be a stellar watch. Sadly, it doesn’t translate to romance. You don’t really want them to become lovers because they make such great friends, and because there’s virtually zero sexual tension or romantic chemistry, the back half of the movie falls flat.

‍

It’s the issue with any genre flick: no matter how well a movie kicks off, no matter what potential deviations it could’ve taken and been better overall, it has to stick to the plan. Ally’s relationship with her sister, Daisy, feels more sisterly than most and is one of the movie’s more intriguing dynamics. The friends, though underused cardboard cutouts, have potential as a quirky but grounded and useful friend group. In all, Ally’s journey would likely be more compelling as a “dramedic” miniseries where she accepts her sex-forward life and embraces romance through her friendship with the manslut across the hall, an irreverent group of friends, and her straight-shooting but supportive sister.

‍

Still, what we got isn’t bad, far from it. It’s not repeatedly hilarious, but it is consistently charming with some genuine laughs (Ally’s engagement party toast should be the gold standard for every maid of honor) and some personal favorites: rudimentary google searches, overplayed late ‘00s-early ‘10s bangers from Neon Trees and Black Eyed Peas, and *shivers* Facebook. Also, we get some laughable plot contrivances, like the difficulty of finding people online, even though it was insanely easy in 2011.

‍

Why does it ultimately work so well? It’s partially Anna Faris, one of the most gifted comic actresses we’ve ever had, who doesn’t always nail the more dramatic moments the film demands but remains irresistibly charming nonetheless. It’s partially Chris Evans, who was kind enough to strip off repeatedly while playing a lothario who’s more likeable than he has any right to be. It’s the premise, which could easily have affirmed Ally’s mania but cuts it down in favor of something more celebratory (though it would’ve been thematically consistent to not have her balk at Colin’s admission that his number was over 300).

‍

It’s a well-crafted cast of (admittedly underused) supporting players, a pinch of early ‘10s cringe, but most of all, it’s the moments of self-awareness and respect for its characters. Colin is a fuckboy, but the moment he realizes his feelings for Ally, he’s genuinely invested and willing to commit. Daisy is a soon-to-be bride who’s not a Bridezilla, and Ally is a woman in her 30s panicking about where her life is going and how she can prevent it, who, while needing to make the movie exist by having some highly anti-feminist self-worth issues, does ultimately find her footing.

‍

Is it the best of its kind? No. It certainly has its faults, but did it deserve a 23% on Rotten Tomatoes and then be completely forgotten over the last 15 years? No. It’s good for a laugh, is an easy watch, and something you’ll always light up for when you see it on TV. It’s a good rom-com, an enjoyable, charming movie, and a great way to spend a rainy afternoon with a pint of Chocolate Therapy and only yourself to love in the world. So, all said, thank you, bumbling Anna Faris and naked Chris Evans. Thank you.